


Wayward Son

by BiteyMadLady



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comedy, F/M, Gen, Making Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 233,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiteyMadLady/pseuds/BiteyMadLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Post-Stolen Earth, S4.  AU: TenII hits a big snag in his efforts to forge a new life with Rose on Pete's World and finds himself facing an unexpected identify crisis.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Ulv Stranden - Prologue I

**Author's Note:**

> Post-Stolen Earth, S4. AU: TenII hits a big snag in his efforts to forge a new life with Rose on Pete's World and finds himself facing an unexpected identify crisis.

 

He came here often to this lonely beach, just to stand and stare stoically at the waves crashing against the rocks and sand.  His brown long coat flapped in the brisk wind as he stood tall and stock-still, seemingly waiting for something that never appeared.  Often he felt a chill, but it wasn’t from the frigid wind or stinging salt spray.  The cold he felt was within his hearts as he contemplated the decades, if not centuries, of losses that seemed to converge on this spot.

In truth, it wasn’t exactly on this spot that the painful losses had occurred.  Only the most recent and devastating losses had happened here, and not really _here_.  Across the Void between universes, on a beach very, very much like this one -- almost identical, in fact -- was a Beach in another Norway.  _Dårlig Ulv Stranden_ it was called in the other universe.  _Bad Wolf Bay_.  Here, it was known only as _Ulv Stranden_ , and although nothing of any consequence had actually happened here in his personal timeline, it was as close as he could get to that other place.  Here, he knew, the bubbles of the two universes rubbed closely together.  Only a relatively thin layer, separated by the Void, existed here, allowing him the illusion that he was as close as he could get without bursting through the walls.  That he could almost touch, almost feel, what was on the other side.

But to break through would destroy both universes, as well he knew.  He had sealed a breach himself, not so very long ago, truncating a series of timelines that had personal significance to him.  He was a Time Lord.  He was the _Last_ of the Time Lords.  It was his responsibility to maintain timelines in an orderly fashion and protect the multiverse, even at the expense of his own interests.  His personal happiness, and that of others he cared deeply for, did not enter into the equation.  He had done what needed to be done, and now he felt more alone than he ever thought he could be.  His hearts seemed trapped there, calling plaintively to him, drawing him back to this deserted and desolate beach time and time again.  Yet, he had no choice but to go on; he was the Last Time Lord, the only one remaining to ensure chaos did not reign across the multiverse.  It was his fault that there were no others, he wordlessly admonished himself, so he deserved no less.

Thin, pin-striped legs felt as if they were stone pillars as he turned slowly back to a bold, blue police box set starkly on the sand.  Crossing the space in long, weary strides, he reached the doors to the blue box and pushed the right panel open, taking one long last look before he disappeared into the interior.  

A sound older than the universe itself, a wheezing, haunting song, drifted over the wind as the blue police box faded away.  It left a small square imprint on the wet sand as the tide came in to lick at its borders, as it had so many times before.


	2. A Life Domestic - Prologue II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TenII reflects on how he ended up on the Slow Path.

The insistent, irritating buzz of a clock/radio filled the air of a large bedroom. In the center against the wall, a queen-sized bed sat with a solid dark-blue duvet; a featureless lump marred its otherwise pristine Shaker looks. An equally austere nightstand sat on the right of the bed; on its surface the clock continued its incessant howling. Long thin fingers appeared from beneath the duvet, slapping at the clock but somehow managing to miss it each attempt. A disheveled mop of dark brown hair, spikes pointing in all cardinal directions and in-between, slowly emerged from the top of the lump. Finally silencing the clock with a well-placed fist, the Doctor gave out a deep sigh and a groan before sitting up.

There was no need to look at the clock. He knew exactly what time it was. His impeccably accurate time sense told him it was six hours, thirteen minutes, forty-seven seconds since he went to bed last night. Unfortunately, it was only his own personal relative time that he knew with a startling degree of accuracy. Ironically, he could tell perfect local time anywhere in the world… in another universe. He would make an excellent stopwatch, but a lousy clock, he noted ruefully. So he had taken to glancing at a clock periodically. He’d then mark the time before adding the hours, minutes and seconds generated by his unerring Time Lord senses to keep up with the current time in this alternate universe. There was no need to consult the clock in his bedroom, because it went off at the same time each day with dismaying regularity. Stuck on the Slow Path; counting down the seconds to an inevitable… and far too short... end to 900 years of existence.

“Doctor!” came a shrill call from downstairs. “I heard your clock goin’ off. Get down ‘ere while breakfast is still warm!”

Jackie Tyler. You could take the heiress out of the estates…

Standing and stretching, the Doctor stepped off the Oriental rug spread beneath the bed and immediately hissed as his bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Hurrying to the en suite bathroom, he turned on the water to the shower to give it time to warm properly. Not for the first time, he felt a pang of longing for his beautiful home and oldest friend, the TARDIS. His beautiful home and oldest friend now, he reminded himself. The full Time Lord had kept her, and he could no longer feel her or hear her crooning song through the sealed rupture between the universes. Sometimes, on the border between sleep and wakefulness, he could almost swear he heard her faint song of love and support reaching out to him from across the vast distances.

“DOCTOR!” The shriek was louder now, as if right outside the bedroom door. Hurriedly stripping off his pajamas (thankfully, nothing like Howard’s old jimjams, but a nice brown with blue pinstripes), the Doctor jumped into the now ready shower as if it were sanctuary from harpies. Which, of course, it somewhat was.

He berated himself sharply for his uncharitable thoughts as he showered. Here he was, living in the Tyler mansion after coming to this world with nothing more than the shirt on his back… and hope. One of life’s little ironies was that Pete and Jackie Tyler would become his benefactors. Jackie would never hesitate to slap sense into him in the other world, and here she was no different. But much to his surprise, Jackie became much more than just his benefactor. Taking him under her wing, she never once questioned who he was, simply accepting him as the Doctor. She morphed into a formidable and fierce protectress, watching over him and his interests ever as staunchly as she did for her daughter. Not even Rose dared raise a hand or her voice to him in Jackie’s presence. 

A rivulet of pain shot through him as he reached to shut off the water. Rose.

Three months now he’d lived at the Tyler mansion, and he’d barely had ten minutes alone with her. She seemed determined to use her parents, her brother Tony, even servants as human body shields to avoid being alone with him. He had held so much hope on the beach at Dårlig Ulv Stranden. He had nothing else, really. He knew the Time Lord would leave him here on Pete’s World. He saw it in his eyes, and since he had all of his memories... was him, essentially, with one heart, one life and some assorted human genes… he knew what the one in the pinstripes would do in his place. There was no discussion, no debate, no choice given. He didn’t expect there to be one.

He had seen the blackness in the eyes of the other Doctor, the barely contained Oncoming Storm, after he had rid them of the Daleks. In truth, he had given the Time Lord no choice, either. He, part human though he was, was the Doctor, too, damn it! He saw that there was no other possible outcome but to destroy the Daleks and the Crucible, and he took it. If he had it all to do over again, he would make the same choice. In the moments after the Time Lord angrily ushered them back into the ship, he understood that he had set his feet on a path that could only result in a collision course with the other Doctor. In his first hours after his birth, he had established his independence and autonomy as a separate being, capable of making his own decisions. It would not be without consequence.

The trip back to Earth had appeared jovial and full of camaraderie as the companions talked amongst themselves and taken shifts piloting at the TARDIS console. Rose and the others had chatted amiably with him, seeming to accept that he was somehow another Doctor, something like an identical twin, while surreptitiously testing his memory of events they’d shared with him. He caught Rose staring at him on multiple occasions in unveiled amazement, as if he were an exceedingly and exquisitely detailed painting. He felt his face flush in self-conscious bashfulness, something he never did as a Time Lord. 

Later, he submitted to multiple medical scans in the infirmary with Donna, curious about the changes to his body and mind. He wasn’t surprised to find that he would age, having established already that he had only one heart. He was disappointed to find he probably wouldn’t regenerate with only one heart, and a bit too much human DNA. Seventy years or so, ninety max, and it would be over. His mind, thankfully, appeared to be intact with a full Time Lord consciousness and brain. The portion of his psyche that he inherited from Donna did not appear to be particularly problematic, but he quickly set to compartmentalizing it to prevent embarrassing Donna-like outbursts during his interactions with his friends. What did surprise him was to discover that he was now genetically-compatible enough to a human female to possibly create viable fetuses. That information would seal his fate, he surmised, once the Time Lord found out.

There could be but one outcome, based on the results of the scans. There would be but one Doctor in this universe… one Doctor in the TARDIS. It wouldn’t be the Human-Time Lord Meta-Crisis, of that much he was sure. Although it boggled his mind to imagine that the Time Lord would ever give her up, he calculated an 89.995% certainty that Rose Tyler would not be given a choice, either. Armed with that knowledge and a sliver of hope, he held his peace.

It was not without trepidation that he stepped out onto the beach of Bad Wolf Bay. His heart, his single human heart, beat rapidly as he carefully watched Rose’s puzzled reaction to that final stop. Jackie stepped out boldly, obviously feeling right at home. Her husband, the alternate Pete Tyler, and their son lived here. For her, this was her home. Rose, however, was clearly reluctant to leave the shelter of the TARDIS. The news that the Doctor was leaving her on Pete’s World with a duplicate did not go well, as he had already guessed. The Time Lord, as imperious as he’d ever been, gave her no choice. Donna, showing her loyalty as best mate to both Doctors, asked the human Doctor to explain to Rose the results of the scans she’d done. It made little difference. Rose, who had spent years in the alternate world launching herself across dimensions trying to get back to her beloved Doctor, never had intentions of ever returning.

He winced, naturally, at the Time Lord’s words: Genocide. Too dangerous to be left on his own. Born in battle. Full of blood and anger and revenge. 

It stung, and he couldn’t help but whinge but a little. But he knew that the harsh words fit the speaker like a glove, just as easily as it fit him. He looked into the eyes of the other, and what he saw there reached across the bond… the tenuous telepathic bond he shared with the only other Time Lord in all of Creation. The horrendous pain he saw there, and felt as the Time Lord temporarily dropped his mental shields, gave him pause. He’s actually doing it. He’s gifting me Rose Tyler, he thought in complete astonishment. The man in the blue suit hadn’t dared to hope. The subtle unspoken plea in the Time Lord’s eyes, the plea not to fight the situation, filled him with a sharp stab of empathy. 

Turning to the side and stuffing his hands into his pockets, he awaited Rose’s reaction. She watched mutely as the Doctor in brown handed the Doctor in blue a sliver of TARDIS coral, which was quickly pocketed. Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, he might actually grow a functional TARDIS within their lifetime. Surely that would help to sway Rose to stay, if she knew she could still have a life of adventure. If nothing else, perhaps it would save his sanity from being landlocked to one planet.

Then came the challenge. Like the Oracles of old, Rose Tyler asked the question, and he knew the answer just as well as the Time Lord. He watched, as the Time Lord in brown pinstripes deliberately muffed the answer.

“Does it need saying?” the one in brown answered lamely.

He knew, without question, what it had cost him to leave that vacuum. He had once been him, after all, and he knew with absolute certainty that he had promised himself after Canary Wharf, solemnly promised, that he would answer the question truthfully and unequivocally when it came.

Rose turned to him expectantly, almost desperately. “And you, Doctor?”

Without hesitation, he stepped into that vacuum in a leap of faith. His new single heart in his throat, he leaned to whisper his answer into her ear, primarily to save the Time Lord the acute pain of actually hearing him say the words.

“Rose Tyler, I love you.”

His shock and disbelief almost threw him off balance as Rose hauled him to her by his lapels. The deep kiss she pulled him into made him forget all of his fears, in one brief second, before he responded. Wrapping his grateful long arms around her waist, he poured all of his love, hope and promises into the most meaningful kiss he had ever given anyone, ever.

And that’s when it all went straight to Hell.

A loud banging and a shriek at the bedroom door startled him out of his reverie. “Dammit, Doctor! Your bleedin’ breakfast has gotten cold.”

Sighing, the Doctor finished tying up his plimsolls and opened the door to an irate Jackie Tyler. “I gotta heat your flippin’ breakfast up again, you wanker! What is it you do in there all mornin', anyway?” she asked as she peered around him.

Biting off a tart retort, he said mildly instead, “Just showering and getting dressed, Jackie. Don’t want me showin’ up at the breakie table starkers, do ya?”

“’Es not past you,” she said with a huff as she stalked back down the hallway. The Doctor followed meekly. It wouldn’t do to bite the hand that feeds one.


	3. Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II has an interesting breakfast with a side of serious heart-to-heart with Jackie.

 

Breakfast at the Tyler mansion was usually a casual, and somewhat chaotic, affair.  In spite of being held in a formal dining room full of dark-walnut Jacobean reproduction furniture, Jackie Tyler was remarkably successful in making everyone feel comfortable in the large and imposing space.  While not born to the manor like her predecessor, the late Cyber-converted Jackie Tyler, Jackie from the other universe knew exactly how to be a warm and welcoming hostess.

Bouncing down the stairs two at a time, the Doctor went straight to the kitchen anticipating having to heat his food up in the microwave, only to get shooed out of the kitchen by Jackie and one of the kitchen staff.  Undaunted, he moved to the bar division to sit, resting his chin on his hands with elbows splayed out on its surface.  He watched with approval, salivating a little, as Jackie covered a plate of rashers and hash browns before popping it into the microwave oven.  Cracking two eggs into a skillet, she expertly prepared to cook them in one of the Doctor’s favorite style — over easy.  Glancing up and noticing his famished expression, she cracked another egg with a small smile.

“Go on, Doctor,” she said with a wave.  “Go join Pete and Tony in the dining room.  I’ll bring ‘em to you when everything is ready.”  The kitchen help, Gladys was her name he recalled, glowered at him.  She liked to run a tight ship, and she was clearly not happy about being fifteen minutes off-schedule with clean-up.

Pete was, indeed, sitting at the head of the table.  Relaxed in his chair with a cup of strong tea, he leisurely clutched a news pad as he prepared for another day as owner and Managing Director of the Vitex firm.  He was also, the Doctor knew, co-founder and head of this world’s Torchwood One.

“’Morning, Pete,” chimed the Doctor cheerily before taking a seat to his right.

Pete Tyler smiled at the Doctor as he put his news pad down, his blue eyes crinkling as they only did when he was truly happy.

“Why good morning, Doctor.  I see you decided to finally join us this morning,” he ribbed him good-naturedly.  “For someone who claims to hate sleep, you do pretty well at it.”

It was true.  _You humans sleep a third of your lives away_ , he had frequently complained in the past.  _A fat lot of good it does you, other than taking up time you could be warring or otherwise killing yourselves._

“Cataloguing, Pete,” he said with a smirk.  “I use that time to catalogue the sensory input of the day.”

As does every other human being, he knew, of which he now had to count himself.  Besides having to bathe daily, use deodorant, wash between his toes, feel the cold or heat of the elements, adjust to numerous new baffling hormones that had no analogue in Gallifreyan physiology, wear clothes that weren’t tailored by the TARDIS, and having to eat Jackie’s cooking, the worst change in terms of being part-human was the requirement for regular sleep.

He simply couldn’t understand it.  In the first few weeks living with the Tylers, he had fallen asleep almost anywhere on the lower levels of the mansion; driving Jackie to distraction as she searched rooms like a frantic mother hen in order to herd him to his bed.  He fell asleep almost anywhere but a bedroom, determined to maintain his usual Time Lord schedule.

Well, there had been those few times when he’d drifted off as he read Tony a bedtime story, after which Jackie would simply tuck the two of them under the covers in Tony’s bed.  Waking up next to a four year-old, tucked under a _Star Wars_ duvet, was humiliating enough.  But the final straw came with the pictures Jackie took of them as they slept, which she then paraded before house guests, remarking how _cute_ the two “boys” were.

Pete grunted jovially, obviously remembering those days as he sipped his tea.  Tony greeted the Doctor with a quick hug and slipped off to play with his toy dinosaurs as his mother entered the room with the Doctor’s rewarmed breakfast.

“There you go, sweetheart,” she said as she placed the generous plate before him.  Thanking her, the Doctor tucked into the rashers of bacon first as Jackie left to retrieve a large orange and a glass of milk for him.

“Hhmmm, so,” harrumphed Pete in his characteristic gravelly voice.  “What’s on the agenda for today?”

_Uh oh_ , he thought.  _Here it comes._

“Oh, thought I’d go looking for a temp job,” the Doctor said conversationally.  “Hundred words a minute, you know,” he grinned half-jokingly, wiggling his fingers in the air over an imaginary keyboard.

Donna always managed to slip out at the most inopportune moments, it seemed.

“He means a _proper_ job, cheeky,” Jackie admonished as she returned to set the glasses of milk and juice down, looking as if she would slap him in the back of the head.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, Doctor, but the offer at Torchwood still stands.”  Pete looked almost apologetic.  “We could really use your expertise, and it certainly pays well.”

The Doctor’s history with Torchwood in the parallel universe had not been very congenial.  As a matter of fact, it had been chartered to protect the Earth from him.  His history with this universe’s Torchwood and one of its chief operatives, one Rose Tyler, was hardly better.

He swallowed hard, trying to avoid eye-contact with Pete.

It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with Pete.  It was the conversation about working for Torchwood that sparked anxiety.  He’d always liked Pete.  Well, he’d liked the proper Pete Tyler he met in the original universe.

_Oooh_ _, no._ _No, no, no, no, no, no,_ he thought as he caught himself.  _Not **proper** ; “other” Pete_.  _The brave, unsuccessful dreamer who chose to sacrifice himself to preserve the timelines Rose disrupted through saving him being hit by a car.  Can’t start thinking “proper” or **he’ll** be the “proper Doctor” and I’ll be… the duplicate._

“Pete… please, don’t think I’m ungrateful, because really I truly, absolutely appreciate everything you have done… are doing... for me.  But I don’t know if I can do it.

The Doctor met his gaze finally, trying hard to show conciliation.  “I don’t think Rose wants me there, and I don’t know if I’d fit properly, even if she did.”

Pete nodded.  “I understand, Doctor.  But it’s a big operation.  Big enough to get lost in, if you want.  And I understand your aversion to weapons and the use of alien tech.  I have a research branch that does nothing but identify, catalogue and archive alien tech that comes through the Rift in Cardiff.  It really needs a Director who knows his stuff.  There’s no one on the planet who could do that job better than you, or train others to do it, and you know it.”

Leaning forward slightly and lacing his fingers together, almost in supplication, Pete looked the Doctor directly in the eyes.  “Do ya really want us to try to _guess_ what that stuff is, and get it wrong?”

The Doctor took a slow deep breath though his nose, staring at his plate, before letting it out just as slowly.

“No, not really,” he admitted in a low voice.

“Will you please consider it,” Pete asked, leaning back and taking the pressure off the Doctor.  “Come down to the office with me a day next week and simply tag along.  I can find something for Rose to do in the field.”

A little pale now, the Doctor nodded silently.  He wasn’t quite so hungry now, and pushed the hash and eggs about on his plate with a piece of toast.

Clapping his hands on his thighs, Pete rose.  “Well, time for me to get back to the farm,” Pete said to indicate close of the inquisition.  He kissed Jackie on the cheek as he passed.

Jackie sat across the table, eyes wide in obvious concern.  She already had a full complement of eye shadow and eyeliner on.

_Does she sleep in that stuff?_   He couldn’t help but wonder for about the hundredth time.  He honestly couldn’t remember a time he’d ever caught Jackie without makeup on.  In a negligee, most certainly.  One such event arising from his ninth self’s memories, the one who was all ears, attitude, and leather jacket, still made him shudder.

“Doctor,” Jackie began.  “We need to talk.”

_Oh no.  No, no, no, no, no,_ he thought for the second time in one breakfast.  _It’s coming.  It’s the Rose talk, I just know it._

He picked up his fork, wondering if sticking it into his eye might provide sufficient distraction to allow an escape.

“Rose is comin’ from her flat tonight to stay overnight and spend time with Tony,” she warned him.  “Pete and I have a charity event we need to attend, so it’ll just be the three of you.”

He nodded acknowledgement and stuffed eggs and hash into his mouth, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

“We won’t be back until well after midnight, long after Tony’s bedtime, so that’ll leave you two lots of time alone to finally talk,” she said with a faint smile.

“She won’t,” he said simply.  “I mean, she’ll talk, but she’ll never say anything meaningful.  Not to me, anyway.”

Jackie gave him a sad smile.  “Funny, but she used to always say the same thing ‘bout you, Doctor.”

“I’ve tried, Jackie.  I’ve really, really tried,” he said, unable to keep the pent up frustration out of his voice.  “I’m trying to be patient and wait for her to see that I’m still me… him.  But every time I try to talk about the things we’ve done together, she clams up and just says something like, ‘Yeah, I remember; I was there.’ As if to say, I somehow wasn’t?  She wastes no opportunity to shut me down and make me feel like a complete idiot.”

Jackie reached across the table and took his hand, sympathy dripping from her features.  “I know, sweetheart… I know this isn’t easy for you.  She jus’ needs time to process all of this.  She needs to get to know you again, as you are.”

The Doctor fisted his free hand and slammed it into the table, causing the dishes to rattle precariously.  “How much more time do I need to be ignored and avoided, Jackie?” he said through clinched teeth.  “How long do I have to be a pawn in her game where she makes sure someone is always blocking me from her?  WHY DID SHE KISS ME ON THE BEACH!” he practically shouted. 

He never let go of Jackie’s hand.  To Jackie’s credit, she didn’t flinch, although there was a tiny bit of fear in her eyes at the Doctor’s loud outburst and contorted grimace of anguish.  Reaching across the table, she took his other hand.

“She loves you, Doctor.  Plain and simple.”

“She loves _him_ ,” he said bitterly, voice low and gravelly.

“But it’s _you_ that she kissed,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, because like Pavlov’s dog, I gave the right response to the right stimulus. I responded to the question with the answer she wanted to hear, so she rewarded the correct response.  That’s all.  She wanted to hear it from the other, not from me.”

Jackie sighed and looked down before meeting the Doctor’s eyes again.  She knew that, in his current agitated state, he wasn’t especially receptive to most of what she had to say.

“Doctor, sometimes we don’t get what we _want_.  We get what we _need_.”

The Doctor laughed a little brokenly.  “Yeah, I can sing you a song about that.  It tends to repeat, over and over again.”

She shook him a little, implying that she was about to deploy the Tyler slap.  He held onto her hands a bit more tightly.

“My baby girl… my Rose… she needs you, Doctor.  And you need her!” she insisted.  “I can’t imagine any two people more suited for each other, or who love each other more.  You’re both jus’ equally stubborn.  Somebody needs to slap some sense into one, or both of ya.”

“You can’t make her love me, Jackie.”

“I’m tellin’ ya, she already does, Doctor.  She jus’ needs to see that.  She spent three whole years riskin’ her life tryin’ to get back to you.  She didn’t care if she left me, her own Mum, behind forever.  Or her brother, Tony.  Or Mickey.  She was jus’ gonna find you, jump into that big box of yours, and never look back.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but deflate a tad as he watched the tears welling in Jackie’s eyes, threatening to turn her raccoon eye makeup into something truly frightful.

“You told her it was impossible, you know,” Jackie continued.  “She beat them odds.  She found you, and then the next thing she knows, before she even gets in a decent conversation with you, she’s back where she started.  She’s jus’ angry ‘cause it didn’ turn out exactly like she thought.  She needs to get that through her thick head.”

Letting go of his hands, Jackie put her hand gently to the Doctor’s cheek.

“And you, young man,” smiling when she saw the Doctor’s first genuine, albeit reluctant, smile, “you need to stop workin’ so hard at tryin’ to prove who you are.”

“But, she doesn’t believe I’m really the Doctor,” he whinged, not quite following her.

“Then that’s her problem,” Jackie stated with finality.  “You didn’ have to prove nothin’ to me or Pete, right?”

He shook his head, staring at her in amazement.  “True, I didn’t.  Why is that, Jackie?”

“Can see it in your eyes, you silly prat.  Anybody lookin’ into those eyes can see you’re a lot older than thirty-five.  You and the Doctor, you may have been born hundreds of years apart, but the eyes are the same.”

“Oi, my driver’s license says I’m thirty-two,” he protested.

Laughing, Jackie finally lightened her mood.  “Tell you what,” she said.  “Try to talk to Rose tonight.  Don’t talk about old times.  Talk about what you’re doin’ now.  Talk about anythin’ but old times.  If she don’t want to talk to you or she gets high and mighty, let me know.  I think I know of somethin’ that’ll work.”

“And that would be… ?”

Jackie gave him a big smile.  “Oh, you’ll see.”


	4. Sparks of the Tempest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware the Oncoming Storm. Ten II finally confronts Rose.

 

Pensive after his breakfast discussion with Jackie, the Doctor went back upstairs to finish his grooming.  Standing before the bedroom full-length mirror, he shifted back and forth to analyze his attire with a critical eye.

His dark indigo jeans, almost blue-black in hue, were tight.  Really tight, he noted with a crooked smile.  He remembered how Jackie had reacted the first time she saw a pair of his favorite jeans.  Melodramatically averting her eyes, she had made a few choice remarks about how “revealing” they appeared to be.  

He’d always worn tight trousers, never feeling completely comfortable in looser clothing.  He barely had an inch of skin surface exposed.  He still continued to wear multiple layers, so he couldn’t understand how they could be revealing much of anything.  Similar to his old pin-stripes, the denim allowed him the freedom of movement and durability he’d enjoyed with the 51st Century fabric generated by the TARDIS.  But then he caught Rose, on one of her occasional visits, sliding her eyes over his nether regions when she thought he wasn’t looking.  Oh yes, she’d been looking.  That sealed the deal for him.

He paired the jeans with a simple Oxford shirt, sometimes in subtle geometrics patterns, and a tasteful tie.  A solid-coloured wool v-neck jumper and plimsolls completed the ensemble.  He hoped the wool jumpers would remind Rose of the big Northern git with the Dumbo ears.  Although jumpers weren’t really his preferred style, they served a purpose.  He still kept them tight, much like his old suit waistcoats, but he ensured they dropped lower on his hips… to prevent an affront to Jackie’s modesty, of course.  Finding one of sufficient length for his long torso was a bit of a pain, but nowhere near that of the Slap of Death.  Humans were so strange, sometimes.

Satisfied finally, he crossed over into the en suite, stopping in front of the mirror mounted over the pedestal sink.  Clutching at locks of his thick, rich chestnut hair, he noted he was in need of a trim.  It would have to do.  He applied his favorite hair products, cases of which Jackie kept well-stocked in the storeroom on the lower levels.  Taking considerable time to make it look as if he’d just arisen from bed, he finally grunted in approval and finished his toilet with his beloved sonic toothbrush; another gift from Jackie.

The rest of the day he spent surfing the Internet and news classifieds for a job, growing increasingly anxious as the time for Rose’s arrival neared.  Emboldened by Jackie’s insistence earlier in the morning that Rose could be wooed if he somehow played his cards right, he wondered what would happen if he actually pressed things with her.

_Oh, strap a pair on, you prawn_ , a voice sounded in his head.  _Nobody wants a flippin’ gormless wuss.  She spent all those years lookin’ for a Time Lord,_ the distinctly Donna part of him berated.

He sniffed.  Had he been weak and too tenuous with Rose?  Had he cocked it up by trying to be careful, considerate and patient?  But, she’d _kissed_ him.  She’d accepted his offer to stay with her for the rest of his human life.  Or _had_ she?

He thought back to the moments of that pivotal kiss.  Through the bond they shared, he felt the Time Lord’s hearts shatter into a million pieces as Rose made her choice clear.  He had sent the couple a wordless telepathic wish of farewell before silently boarding his ship with Donna.  He remained stiff-lipped… on the outside, anyway… as ever.  Rose, of course, could not have heard it, and he was too engaged in kissing her to tell her.  And he was concerned about Donna, knowing the potential outcome of the meta-crisis.  

The instant that she heard the dematerialization of the TARDIS, Rose had immediately broken their deep embrace and stumbled toward the disappearing blue box.  She had stopped in her tracks and stared at the empty spot where the TARDIS had been.  Too overwhelmed by emotion to say anything, he had stepped forward to take her hand, hoping to comfort her.  He wasn’t completely daft.  He knew she loved the Time Lord, and in that moment he had felt nothing but sorrow for him… and a guilty elation.

They stared at each other, unable to speak.  Rose leaned against him as they turned to follow Jackie, who was on her mobile trying to arrange transport to Bergen, some fifty miles away.  The walk to the nearest town was several miles, and Rose was quiet.  

Finally in a car on the way to Bergen, Rose withdrew her hand.  Silent tears coursed down her face as she stared out the window, withdrawn and sullen.  Any attempt to engage her in conversation failed miserably.  Come to the conclusion that she was upset because the Time Lord had left her without a goodbye, he decided to leave her to mourn in her own way.  She had become more like him than he cared to admit, keeping her own counsel.  She never took his offered hand again.

In all this time, he had hung onto the defining moment of that kiss.  He had offered his life, his love to her forever… his forever.  She had accepted his offer with the kiss.

Lately, he was no longer sure.  He replayed the moment in his mind ten, twenty times a day, trying to discern what had gone wrong.  What had he done, what could he have said, to make her change her feelings so quickly?

Hearing the noisy return of Tony back from nursery school, his thoughts turned back to the here and now.  He walked into the foyer to have a small blonde missile launch itself at him.

“Allo, Tony,” he grinned as he picked up the tyke for a spin above his head.  Tony Tyler, blonde with light brown eyes and dimpled cheeks, looked heartbreakingly like his sister.  He adored the Doctor, seeming to adopt him as an uncle of sorts.  Tony never tired of being held high in the air by his tall “Uncle Doctor” at every opportunity, so it became their standard return home ritual.  The Doctor, mired into a firmly domestic pattern, couldn’t stop himself from wondering what children between he and Rose might look like.  Would they look anything like Tony?

Within the next hour, Rose let herself in.  Holding a duffel bag and a designer purse, she was still dressed in her professionally tailored suit and low heels, obviously having come straight over from Torchwood One.  She smiled congenially, but then immediately turned her attention to Tony, who was in serious danger of overstimulation.

The Doctor tried hard not to stare admiringly at her, but watched her out of the corner of his eye.

She was thin.  Fit, but thinner than he’d ever seen her before the Battle of Canary Wharf.  Her face was more angular, as if she’d lost the “baby fat” of her teens.

But of course, she had.  She was now almost 25 years-old.  Gone was the chavvy look with heavy makeup and globs of mascara.  Her makeup was now subtle in colour and softer in appearance.  Her hair was cut and styled into a natural neck-length bob more befitting a senior leader at Torchwood, not to mention… heiress to the Vitex fortune.  She still chose to keep it blonde, he was gratified to see, although now it was professionally done with tasteful streaks that framed her face.

Though he might love her no matter the color, green if she so chose, he still waxed nostalgic for his pink and yellow girl, who somehow captured a battered old soldier’s hearts.

Rose headed for the stairwell, her bags on her shoulder.  He knew better than to offer to help.

“I’m gonna go change,” she said.  “Is Mum upstairs?”

“Yeah.  She’s getting ready for the charity ball.  I told her I’d run out to the chippie to get us fish and chips for dinner.  That alright?” he asked as evenly as he could.

“Fantastic!” she said, clearly enthused by the idea.  At least he still knew the way to her stomach, if not her heart.

“Be right back,” he called to her as she reached the top of the stairs.  Grabbing his keys, he ran out to the little TARDIS-blue hybrid parked in the voluminous six-car garage; a gift from Pete Tyler, who presented it to him at the end of his first week at the mansion.

When he returned with the steaming baskets of fish and chips, with extra sides of chips, he found Rose changed into a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt, reading a book to Tony.  Her eyes lit up at the sight of the greasy bags.

“Oh my God, chips!!” she exclaimed.  She followed the Doctor docilely to the kitchen island, trying to snatch chips out of the top of the sacks as he walked slowly backwards, a big grin on his face.

The three of them sat at the island to eat their meal, Rose pouring on the salt and vinegar as if there were no tomorrow.  Tony held his nose and whinged about the smell, preferring his chips plain.  Jackie’s shrill call came to them from the hallway leading to the foyer.  “We’re off,” she shouted unseen.  A chorus of goodbyes followed her as they started devouring piles of chips and fish.

“’S been _ages_ since I’ve had good chips,” sighed Rose.  For the next few minutes, they bantered with Tony about his school and friends, or as much as one can banter with a four year-old.

_Don’t bugger this up,_ the Doctor thought to himself.  _This is good_.

_And when did I start using words like “bugger” and “prawn,” anyway? Eh, Donna?!?_ He shoved the gingery mental image into a mental compartment and locked the door, hoping to avoid any verbal faux pas.

All too soon, it was time to send the little tyke off to bed.  The anxiety levels were rising in the Doctor again.  Rose read Tony’s bedtime story, and then they both said their goodnights to him before quietly shutting his bedroom door.

Rose yawned dramatically at the door.  “Well, I’ve had a long day at work.  I think I’ll settle down with a book before going to sleep.”

“Rose,” began the Doctor, drawling her name like he used to, hoping it would dissuade her from running from him again.  “Could we please talk for just a few minutes?  I promise, it won’t take long.  Just need your honest opinion on what I’m doing to try to integrate into life here in ‘ol Pete’s World.  Not like there’s a guidebook for it, eh?”

She hesitated for a second.  “Dad won’t help you?” she asked neutrally.

“Weell… he tends to work pretty late, or he’s off to Vitex functions, or assorted things like that,” he said, flashing his eyebrows to indicate that tonight was an example.  “You know.  He’s such a busy man.  And I value your input, you know.  Please?  I’d truly, honestly, really, really would appreciate it,” he said, throwing in all the considerable charm he had at his disposal.

She sighed.  “Ok.  Let’s go down to the library so we don’t disturb Tony, yeah?”

They walked down to the library, the Doctor trying hard not to hyperventilate.  This was the first time Rose had allowed herself to be alone with him.  He had to proceed with caution.

Rose raised the lighting in the library to a harsh glare before they seated themselves across from each other on two separate sofas.  No danger of a romantic atmosphere developing there, he noted dolefully.  Rose was sending a clear signal.

He began by talking about possible career paths, interview techniques and other very innocuous subjects.  Rose seemed to relax a bit, putting on her professional face as she answered him with impersonal and carefully worded bits of advice.  She asked him where he’d applied so far.  He decided to take the plunge.

“Pete, your Dad… he’s offered me a directorship at Torchwood One,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice modulated.

She stiffened.  “Torchwood?  He offered you a job at Torchwood… just like that?” she asked guardedly.

“Yeah,” he responded.  “Identifying alien tech, teaching others to do the same.  Archiving it, and all that.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not,” he asked, not surprised by her answer.

“You don’t even like Torchwood.  Said so yourself.  Why would you want to work there?”

He shrugged.  “Gotta do something to get my life sorted out, don’t you think?  I need to start somewhere.  I can’t keep living off your parents.”

“Okay…,” she said flatly, looking away.

“You don’t want me there, do you?” he asked evenly.  He watched her eyes, which she still kept trained on thin air.

“’S not really that,” she started.  

“Not _really,_ ” he asked with no inflection.  Rose paled a little, but said nothing else.

“Not really?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice.

“N..no, ‘s not that,” she insisted.  “I mean, I don’t think you’d be a good fit.”

“Are you saying I’m not qualified?  You don’t think I could do the job?  Who else do you know who has that kind of knowledge?”

He saw a little flash of defiance in her eyes as she met his gaze now.  He knew she was thinking of the other Doctor.

“ _He_ , Rose Tyler, is _here_.  What he knows, I know.  I _am_ the Doctor.”

“You’re not the Doctor,” she said coldly.

“I am, Rose.  All that he is, all of his memories, his intellect, his thought processes…his _feelings_.  They’re right here in this body,” he said, leaning forward to look intently into her eyes.

“You are not the Doctor,” she spoke slowly and deliberately.  “I’ve spent the last three years of my life searchin’ for _my_ Doctor and the TARDIS.  Three years!  I’ve broken bones, been shot, stabbed, beaten, tortured, and have whole organs missing.  I searched hundreds, hundreds of universes.  I didn’t do all of that jus’ to be dropped off back here like a… a… a homeless dog.  ‘S s’pposed to be the Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS, the stuff of legend.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry you went through all of that, Rose.  But I am still the Doctor,” he persisted sadly and quietly.

“I’m not believin’ we’re havin’ this conversation,” Rose angrily replied.  “That’s it, I’m goin’ to bed.”

She jumped up and strode purposefully to the door, the Doctor in hot pursuit.

“Rose!” he shouted, behind her.  She ignored him until he caught her by the arm and turned her around.

“Let me go!” she hissed.

“Just listen to me!”

“Stop it,” she spat.  “You’re hurting me!”

He relaxed his grip a little, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“Rose, why won’t you admit I’m the Doctor?” he asked coolly.  He was struggling not to get angry.

“Because you’re _not,_ ” she responded hotly.  “ _He’s_ still in the other universe, so there can’t possibly be _two_ of you.  You don’t have a _TARDIS_ , you got but one _heart_ , you’re half bloody _human_ and you’re gonna _wither and die_ just like any other human!”

He was starting to pant now; a cold fury had formed in the pit of his core and was working its way up into his chest.  He advanced, backing her up against the wall as his face suddenly grew cold and distant.

“I can have a working TARDIS in five years, Rose.  He gave me a piece of the TARDIS coral.  It’s right here in my pocket, where I always keep it,” he said through clinched teeth.  “Five years, Rose!  Five years and we can be off this rock!”

“Havin’ a TARDIS ain’t gonna make you the Doctor,” she said stubbornly.

The rage within him exploded, his eyes growing as dark and deep as a blackhole.  Grabbing Rose by the shoulders, he pulled her forward and slammed her back into the wall, forcing a little shriek of fear from her.  He drew himself up to his full height, towering over her and looking down his nose.  She’d never seen him colder.

Rose’s face crumpled into terror.  She’d seen that look before when it was trained on Daleks, Cybermen, Slitheen and other enemies.  But it had never been directed at her before.  She had unleashed the Storm, and suddenly she knew what she was dealing with.

“Why did you kiss me?” he asked in a cold fury.

“I… I…,” she stammered.

“WHY DID YOU KISS ME ON THE BEACH?” he roared.

“I dunno,” she cried, tears starting to streak down her face.  “It.. it.. it was impulse, I think.  I’d waited so long to hear you… him, I mean…, say it.”

“You _used_ me, _Rose Tyler_ ,” he said accusingly, his face only inches from hers now.  “You used me and you _broke… his… hearts_.”

“Wh…w-what?” she stammered, looking confused.

“Oh, yes, Rose Tyler.  _You_ left him heartbroken.  Why do you think he didn’t say goodbye to you?  How did you _think_ he was supposed to feel when you _snogged me senseless_ right in front of him, hmmm?”

“H-how do you know that?”

He used his free hand to tap his temple.  “Time Lords, Rose.  We had a psychic link, he and I, just like I told you.  It’s how I knew that all of the other Time Lords were gone.  It was just emptiness, no more voices, inside my head.  But as soon as I was created, we both felt it.  Now, we’re both alone again.”

Rose just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

He released her, finally.  The Storm had abated, leaving him looking sad, weary, and every day of his 900 plus years.  He bent low, whispering into her left ear, as he did on that cold beach at Bad Wolf Bay.

“I chose you, _Rose Tyler_.  I gave up everything; the TARDIS, him, everyone I know, to stay here with you.  I pledged myself, my love, and the rest of my miserable existence on the Slow Path… to you.  And you used me to get back at him because he wouldn’t say three words.”

“N-n-no.  No, that’s not right,” she said in horror.  “He told me I didn’t have a choice!  He didn’t give me a choice!  He said I had to stay with you, that you were too dangerous to leave alone.”

“I never even questioned him, Rose, not once” he said slowly, as he straightened up.  “Had we both protested and begged him to let us stay, I doubt that he would have left us both here.  But I thought, if you were here with me and you got to keep your family, it would all be worth it.”

The Doctor walked wearily to the door, and then stopped within the opening to turn back around.  “You know what the worst part is, _Rose Tyler_?  The most ironic thing of all?  In spite of everything that’s happened these past three months, and in light of what you’ve just told me, I still love you.”

He sighed deeply.  “He’s right, you know.  I _am_ dangerous.  Dangerously stupid.”

And with those parting words, he turned and walked away.


	5. Lightning's Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jackie finds Rose and discovers that she and the Doctor have been fighting. The Doctor takes a little trip on the Road to Nowhere, but returns to encounter a force of Nature: Hurricane Jackie.

 

The Doctor’s mind and heart were in turmoil.  In a daze, he walked away from the library, his voice, _His_ words, ringing repeatedly in his head.

_Full of blood and anger and revenge._ __

Expressionless, he found himself leaning against the side of his little blue hybrid, holding the keys in his hands.  He had no memory of how he got here.  No idea where he was going.

“Rose,” he whispered.

How could he?  How could he have put his hands on Rose in anger?

Rose, the woman he loved more than life itself.  He had slammed her against the wall like a discarded broken toy.  He had _physically and emotionally_ hurt her.  His Rose!

He had been a broken and empty vessel of a soldier, and she had picked up the shattered pieces and filled his scarred old hearts with things he’d never thought he’d feel again:  Happiness, joy, hope, purpose… and yes, love.  His pink and yellow Princess, who he’d sworn to protect against harm at all cost, and he’d _hurt_ her.

The image of his previous face, with big ears, strong aquiline nose and piercing blue eyes, seemed to stare back at him from behind his eyelids.  A look of fury and utter disgust marred his rough features.  _He_ had given up his life without a second thought, willingly died to protect his Rose.  There was no doubt that, could his ninth incarnation take physical form right now before him, _He_ would choke the very last breath from his miserable carcass.

Opening the garage door with his key fob, the Doctor fell into his car and pulled out into the driveway.  There was no destination; no place to go.  No place to run.  But run he must.  He had to get away, to leave the scene of the crime, even if only for a few moments.  He started to drive, barely noting anything but cars and pedestrians, on an aimless course on the Road to Nowhere.

########

Jackie stepped into the foyer, Pete close behind her.  She immediately kicked off her strappy shoes, rubbing her feet with a grimace.  She took note of how all the lights were on, as if no one had gone to bed.  It was ‘nigh 1:00 am in the morning.

“Oh, Pete,” she said with a smile, “I think they stayed up talkin’!  Was so hopin’ they would.  Them two got a lot of things they need to clear the air on.  But I wonder where His Nibs went.  His car isn’t here.”

Pete nodded.  “I’m going to bed, Jacks.  It’s been a long day and I need to be fresh tomorrow.  Gotta presentation to do.”

“Ok, sweetheart.  I’ll be up in a mo’.  Jus’ wanna check on the kids,” she said with a kiss to his cheek.

“You just want to be nosey,” he grinned as he headed up the stairs.

Jackie checked the family room and kitchen first, turning out lights as she left.  Seeing the library door open with bright light streaming into the hallway, she headed there next.  Her eyes widened as soon as she walked through the door.

Rose was sitting on the floor, back to the wall.  Her eyes were swollen, red, and almost swollen shut from crying.  Dried tears tracked her face and her mascara had gone everywhere.  She looked up at Jackie and let out a choked, “Mum,” before her face crumpled into fresh tears.

“Rose!” Jackie exclaimed, dropping down to embrace her daughter.  “What happened!  Where’s the Doctor?”

“I… I dunno.”  She looked around as if searching for him.  “He…he left, I think.”

“Rose, sweetheart… what happened?  Why are you on the floor crying?  What did he do to you?”

“Oh, Mum,” she sobbed quietly.  “He was so… _angry_!”

Jackie’s eyes hardened.  “Did he hurt you?  What the hell happened, Rose?”

“Oh, Mum… I’ve never seen him like that.  Not with m..mm..me.  He was so, so _furious!_  He… he slammed me into the wall and pinned me there and wouldn’t let me leave.”

“WHAT??” Jackie shrieked.  “He _what_?”

“Oh, Mum!” Rose said, as she collapsed into her mother’s arms.

“I’m gonna kill ‘im,” Jackie spat.  “How dare he touch my baby?”

“No, no, Mum.  I think it was my fault.  I said some…things.  Some h-harsh words.”

“I don’ care, Rose.  Nobody treats my daughter like that.  I don’t care what you did.  He ain’t got no right to do that.  His car is gone, so I know he ran like the coward he is.”

Rose started.  “He’s… gone?  He left?”

“Yeah,” Jackie nodded.  “Or I’d slap ‘im into the middle of next week.  He won’t need no time machine when I get to ‘im.  So what was he on ‘bout, Rose.  What set ‘im off?”

“Well, it..it started like he wanted to talk ‘bout getting’ a job, yeah?  Then he told me he was gonna work for Torchwood.  That Dad offered him a job right at Torchwood One.”

Jackie nodded.  “Yeah, he did.  Pete told me he was gonna.  Said he would be good at it, if he’d get off ‘is high horse.  Said he’s even overqualified.”

“I told him it wouldn’t be a good idea,” Rose said simply.

“Oh, sweetheart.  Why’d you go and do that?  We’ve been tryin’ to get up his self-confidence so he’d actually get out and try a proper job.  He’s so scared of ‘is own shadow that he hardly leaves the house!  We think he’s been waitin’ on you, Rose.  He don’t wanna start a life without you.”

Rose looked away, not wanting to meet her mother’s gaze.  “He accused me of not wantin’ him to work there.  And that’s when it started spinnin’ out of control.  Kept goin’ on ‘bout how he was jus’ as qualified as the Doctor.  That he _was_ the Doctor, in every way.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said he wasn’t,” Rose said in a low voice, still looking away into nothing.  “I said he was human, an’ how he was jus’ gonna wither and die like the rest of us humans.  How he didn’t have a TARDIS, or two hearts, an’ how he couldn’t be the Doctor because the Doctor still exists in the other universe.  It’s not like he’s dead or somethin’.”

Slumping with a sigh, her eyes sad, Jackie stared at Rose waiting for her to look up.

“Rose, I’m not believin’ you said all of that to him.  Why would you say that to him?  Were you _tryin_ _’_ to hurt him?  It ain’t his fault the other left you here.  Why take it out on him?”

“No, Mum!” Rose cried in frustration.  “That’s not why I said it!  He’s _not_ the Doctor.  He’s…he’s like a… a clone or something.  The proper Doctor, the one I was looking for, is in the other universe.  This one thinks that if he grows a TARDIS, somehow he’ll be the Doctor.  It don’t work that way!  Then he started screamin’ at me about how I kissed him on the beach.  I mean, you’d think I took some kind of vow to marry him or somethin’.”

“Rose Marian Tyler,” her mother intoned.  “That man loves you more than he loves his own life.  He’s as much the Doctor as that other one, an’ the other one told you that, plain and simple.  I know you haven’t spent hardly any time with ‘im, but I have.  He is absolutely the same as the other, only a little easier to talk to.  A lit’l less weird and alien.  He may not understand all the time, but he _tries_ , Rose.  He’s got one thing over the other; and that is, he’s not afraid to commit.  He wants a life with you, Rose, an’ I don’t think you were ever gonna get that out of the other.  The other one left you here.  He stayed.”

Rose laughed.  “Oh, come on, Mum!  He left me at every opportunity.  Even when he was the big Northern bloke.  He dropped me off home and told me to have a good life!  Then he jus’ went an’ changed his face on me, no explanation or nothin’.  He left me and Mickey to fend for ourselves when he ran off with that French tart, Reinette!  He didn’t even think that he could get back, Mum.  An’ then he ran off an’ left me here after I spent three long years lookin’ for ‘im!  He abandoned Sarah Jane, Mum!  She told me so.  That’s what he does, Mum.  He can’t be trusted.  An’ look what he did last night!!  He’s run off again.  He can’t be trusted, Mum!”

Jackie’s blue eyes danced and sparkled in victory.  “So,” she said.  “You’re admittin’, then, that he is the same man.  He’s the same Doctor, then.”

“What?” Rose asked, staring at her Mum in confusion.

“You just lumped him in with the other one.  Said all those things he did, as if he had done them.  If you really think he did all those things as the Doctor, then he’s the same man.”

Rose closed her eyes and put her face in her hands.  “I’m so confused, Mum.”

“Yes, that you are, love,” said Jackie gently.  “But you can’t let your confusion be his problem.  You can’t keep snatchin’ his identity away like that.  He can’t help who he is, or what he is.  An’ it ain’t like you, Rose.  It ain’t like you not to have compassion for people.  That’s not you, not like my Rose.  You’re better than that.”

She stood up, offering a hand to help Rose to her feet.  “Let’s go wash your face, love.  We can talk about it in the morning.  I can’t stop you from makin’ your own decisions ‘bout things.  If you want to throw the baby out with the bathwater, I can’t stop you.  So be it.  But I want you to know, he’s a good man.  He don’t deserve to be mistreated an’ disrespected, an’ I consider him a part of this family.  You ain’t got to marry him or nothin’, but please give him some respect an’ let him keep his dignity, ok?”

“What if he doesn’t come back, Mum?”

“He’ll be back.  I know he will.  We’re all he’s got left.”

Rose nodded, subdued, as she followed Jackie from the room.

##########

He drove through the deserted streets quite aimlessly; eyes almost sightless, only registering subconsciously any obstacles in his path.  Were he thinking rationally, he wouldn’t operate a vehicle at all in his emotional state.

His brilliant Time Lord brain was processing hundreds of threads of thought simultaneously, but most of them were occupied with the events of the last few hours.  They looped and nested, swirled, died and reformed, inside his head like a swarm of angry Africanized bees.

One particular set of words would come to the foreground and repeat itself in a Mobius loop of analysis and then emotion, subside for a few minutes, and then get replaced with another.

“ _He’s_ still in the other universe, so there can’t possibly be _two_ of you. You don’t have a _TARDIS_ , you got but one _heart_ , you’re half bloody _human_ and you’re gonna _wither and die_ just like any other human!”

Oh, the irony, to have those words thrown back into his face:  Wither and die.  Wither and die.  He said them out loud, feeling the bitterness, like ashes, in his mouth.  That was when he had snapped.  The sting of the Truth was more than he could bear.

_Stupid, stupid, arrogant Time Lord._ _Never thought you’d ever have those words applied to you, did you? Such poetic justice that Rose would remember and hoist me by my own petard._

But was he still a Time Lord?  Is that what made him who he was?  The other Doctor lost only a hand.  He’d lost a binary circulatory system, the ability to regenerate, and part of his genome.  He looked the same and still had many of his Time Lord senses, thanks to the dominance of the Time Lord triple helix.  They were a bit diminished with the introduction of human genes and by being in this alternate universe.  But is a Time Lord defined by biology?  Does he stop being a Time Lord because he wasn’t a genetically pure Gallifreyan?  There were (used to be, anyway) Gallifreyans who weren’t Time Lords, so it can’t be genetics alone.

He still remembered being a Time Lord, being him.  He had all the same knowledge, the same memories.  Was he the sum of his memories and experiences?  If so, he was still a Time Lord and still the Doctor.

But now, his experiences and the resulting memories were diverging.  He had no problem with this at all when he regenerated.  He knew he was the same man after regeneration, although it _felt_ like dying to the previous incarnation.  The old him died, and the new bloke went running off to new adventures with a whole new personality and all of the previous memories.  Why was this so different?

_Instantaneous Biological Meta-crisis_

He was unique.  One of a kind.  There was never one like him, ever.  It was like his psyche had been cloned, but not the body.  It was almost the inverse of identical twins, which were essentially biological clones, but with totally separate psyches and memories.  Identical twins had separate identities.  No one argued about their identities.  If he was truly unique, did that mean he wasn’t the Doctor _now_ , but had been prior to the meta-crisis?

The metaphysical, ontological implications of his existence made even his considerable intelligence reel.  His state of being, never questioned before, suddenly defied analysis.  There was no empirical evidence to help him.  He could test out not one of his many theories.  Every intellectual avenue he pursued led back to the philosophical.

His driver’s license, no longer a piece of psychic paper he could bend to his will, stated he was one John Noble Smith, age 32.  His memories told him he was the Doctor, Last Time Lord of Gallifrey.  His body indicated he was an Instantaneous Biological Meta-crisis, a unique individual who fit no other pattern.  The woman he loved defined him as a negative, a non-entity:  Not the Doctor.

He was in crisis.  He wasn’t quite sure who he was.  He certainly didn’t know where he was.  What was certain was that he wouldn’t resolve the question tonight.  It was after 4:00 am in the morning, according to the clock on his dash. 

It was time to face the music.

He punched the buttons on the navigation unit in his car.  He had to laugh sardonically as he hit the “Home” button.  He’d been driving all night, and he was a mere 45 minutes from the Tyler mansion.

Strangely enough, the gate guards didn’t stop him when he arrived.  He drove up the driveway and used the remote garage door opener.  No police cars anywhere to be seen.

He wasn’t surprised to see Jackie standing in the garage awaiting him, still wearing a cocktail dress with sequins, in bare feet.  He steeled himself for the inevitable.

Parking the car, he got out and walked over to Jackie, head slightly lowered.  She said nothing, of course.  He looked up into her blue-grey eyes and couldn’t help but compare them to satellite photos of hurricanes, complete with flashes of lightning.

Taking in a shaky breath, he simply greeted her with a “Jackie.”

She cracked him, hard, across his left cheek.  He didn’t flinch, but he could barely see for the stars in his eyes.  Then she slapped him just as hard across the right cheek.  This time he almost went down, but not before Jackie grabbed him by his upper arms and hauled him upright.  Or as upright as she could for such a gangly man.

She waited until his eyes could focus on her before she launched into her tirade.

“How dare you slam my daughter into the wall…,” she hissed.

He didn’t know what to say, he could only stare at her with eyes as contrite as a cowering puppy.

“If you _ever_ raise your hand in anger to her again,” she continued in a dangerously low voice, “you’ll be able to wear trousers a size smaller, ‘cause I’ll rip out your bits and bobs with me own hands.  You got that, mister?”

This time he did flinch a little, a tiny look of fear creeping in his eyes.

“Nobody, but nobody does that to my Rose.  Not even me.  What have you got to say for yourself?”

He dropped his head in genuine shame.  “I’m truly, truly so, so sorry, Jackie.  You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“Good,” she said, a little of the fury having dissipated.  “I expect you to apologize to Rose, too, the first opportunity you get.”

He nodded again, but remained silent.

“Have you been drinkin’?” she demanded.

“Oh, no… no, Jackie.  All I’ve had is a cup of tea.  I’ll get my things and leave.”

“Oh no,” she said, surprisingly.  “You’re not going anywhere but upstairs and into bed.”

“How can I possibly stay now?” he asked, not wanting to believe her words.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, Doctor!” she said, finally raising her voice.  “This is your home.  This is where you belong, and you’re going straight upstairs.  We’ll talk later.  Now, go.”

He nodded again and walked obediently to the door.  He paused and turned back slightly.

“Thank you, Jackie,” he said sincerely.

“Go!!” she shouted, stomping her foot at him.

He fled upstairs, not looking back.


	6. Paradox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II gets a temporary reprieve from execution and continues to wrestle with his identity. He finally reaches an epiphany.

 

A gentle knock on his bedroom door woke him.  Bright sunlight was streaming through the window, making his sleep-induced blurry vision much worse than normal.  He struggled to make out the digital readout on the clock/radio.  As he moved closer to the edge of his bed, the drag against his body made him look down.

He was fully clothed on top of the duvet, and it was 12:00 pm.  He’d slept for over six hours!

“Doctor!” he heard coming from the other side of the door.

Jackie.  He fought the covers to get upright, feeling distinctly disoriented and quite tired, in spite of six hours of sleep.  His face felt like fire, reminding him of the events of last night and early morning.  Not that he needed a reminder.

Opening the door, he encountered a concerned-looking Jackie, no trace of the fire and ice he’d seen last on her face.

“Did you sleep in your clothes, love?” she asked, looking him up and down.

“Suppose I did,” he said.  “You did send me straight to my room and told me to go to bed,” he added with a boyish smile.

Jackie noted that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “Well, I’ve got your lunch ready.  You must be starving by now, with your metabolism,” she said.  “Come on down and have something to eat.  You can change later.  You’d probably pass out in the shower, otherwise.”

The Doctor hesitated for just a second, wondering who was downstairs.  It was Saturday, and he wasn’t sure if Rose was still at the mansion, or whether Pete was sitting at the table with murderous intent.

Jackie must have picked up on the reason for his hesitancy, because she reassuringly added, “It’s ok.  It’s just me, Pete and Tony.  Rose went back to her flat.  Everything’s ok.”

He nodded.  “Be right there,” he said before heading for the en suite.  Splashing cold water on his face, he wondered why he felt so dehydrated and washed out, as if he were hung over.  Standing up to take a better look at himself, he noticed there were two, rather livid, handprints on his face about the hue of mild sunburn.  Neither of them could truly be mistaken for anything but slap marks.

“Oh, wizard,” he muttered under his breath as he went downstairs.

Walking slowly down the stairs to the dining room, the Doctor couldn’t resist wondering how Pete would greet him.  Or not…

Strolling into the dining room with hands in pockets and hair a bit wilder and spikier than normal, he looked amusingly more like a little boy than Tony, who sat at the table in a booster seat to Jackie’s left.  Pete, as usual, was sitting at the head of the table.  

Pete looked up with a smile, and then froze for only the briefest of seconds, eyes clearly focused on the two red marks on the Doctor’s cheeks.  He recovered admirably, however, and amiably patted the table at his right to indicate the Doctor should take his customary position.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” he greeted in his typical gravelly manner.  He gave no indication that anything had changed, so the Doctor sat down after returning the greeting.  Tony, of course, being four, was not quite so adept at social artifice.

“Doctor,” he cried at typical stentorian playground volume.  “What happened to your face?”

Jackie reached for the serving platter of turkey wraps, as if she’d heard nothing.

“Uhm… uh… I… I got sunburned, Tony!” the Doctor finally stuttered out, rather pleased with his clever inpromptu answer.

The four year-old’s face crinkled in puzzlement as he stared openly at the red marks.  He cocked his head side to side as he concentrated.

“At night?  In _London_?” he challenged him, a look of incredulity marked his tiny features.

_Ah yes, bright little lad.  As brilliant as his sister,_ the Doctor thought with pride as he started loading up his plate.  _Nice try, but he’s not buying it._

“Ever hear of the Midnight Sun, Tony?”

“DOCTOR!  TONY!  Eat your lunch!” shot Jackie, obviously unimpressed with the lunch table topic.  A twinkle in her eye belied her tone, so the Doctor relaxed a bit.  At the moment, the dining room appeared safe from histrionics.  

_Delay of execution_ , he thought wryly.  _Flaying, drawing and quartering to be announced._ __

The enigma called Jackie Tyler remained a mystery to him.  She was all at once like a patroness, friend, mother-in-law and step-mother; emphasis on the step.  She was so unpredictable and volatile in many respects, but never when it came to her protectiveness towards her family.  One could never fault her for her allegiance to family.  That she hadn’t put him out of his misery, or bodily thrown him from the mansion early this morning, left him gob smacked.  Literally and figuratively, it seems.  He couldn’t deny that, at times, she terrified him in a way none of his enemies ever would.

_How can I possibly understand who I truly am, when I can’t even figure out Jackie Tyler, a member of a lower species descended from apes??_

Donna’s internal voice kicked in.  _Oi_ _, Dumbo!  Count yourself amongst us stupid apes._   _Not so much the high an’ mighty Lord of Time now, are ya?  More like a monkey’s uncle, ya are!_

Since he wasn’t really in a straight line of descent from either Gallifreyan or Homo Sapiens species, perhaps he was indeed a monkey’s uncle.  He was not quite the direct result of evolution on either planet, but derived partially from a disjointed hand and a human’s touch.

Quickly finishing lunch, he excused himself to go upstairs and shower.  He was almost dizzy from the vortex of thoughts that swirled through his head.  Something was nagging him… A stray thought fragment kept eluding him, slipping through his fingers like wispy curls of water vapor.

After showering and dressing, barely registering any of the activities, he found himself sitting quietly in his desk chair, staring out of his bedroom window.  He could discern no pattern to his thoughts, other than a recurring mental image of his old hand bubbling in its container beneath the TARDIS console.  What was it with the hand?  Why was it so important?  There was the obvious, of course:  He derived from the hand.  What was he missing???

“Think, think, think…,” he muttered to himself.  “What am I missing; what am I failing to see?”

_I am the Bad Wolf.  I create myself._ The disembodied voice of the Bad Wolf coming from Rose seemed to spring unbidden to his consciousness.

_Did I create myself?  Am I an ontological paradox? Did I create myself like the Bad Wolf? How?_

He thought back through the chain of events leading to his creation.

Regeneration.  Regeneration sickness.  Dueling with the Sycorax leader.  Right hand cut off in the battle.  (Love the hand!)  Regrew hand.  Old Hand found and preserved by Jack Harkness (by now immortal).

He shook his head vigorously and pinched the bridge of his nose.  At no point could he, the current Doctor in Pete’s World, have influence any of those events that he could think of.  How could he have had a hand (pun intended, he laughed softly to himself) in his own creation?  That can’t be it.  Whatever did Bad Wolf have to do with this?

His too-long hair, devoid of any hair products since he’d forgotten to put any on, kept falling into his eyes, obscuring his vision.  He brushed it away in irritation, then stood up and started pacing.

Bad Wolf:  An entity that created itself within Rose when she took in the Time Vortex from the Heart of the TARDIS.  It was as plain an example of an ontological paradox as ever there were.  In drawing the power of the Vortex out of Rose and sending it back to the Heart of the TARDIS, he’d ended his ninth life.  But not before Bad Wolf brought Jack back to life and re-created him as a fixed point in time, an aberration he could barely stand to look at.  The hard light of his singularity, the unnatural pinpoint of convergence in the time lines, set his Time Lord senses on edge.  But it was that aberration that had found the severed hand that eventually became the Instantaneous Biological Meta-crisis; that unique individual he called _himself_ … the Doctor in Pete’s World.

Trembling slightly, he stopped pacing.  Fragments of thoughts were starting to congeal and precipitate, forming larger chains of thought.  Hundreds of thought processes were clamoring for his attention, threatening to overwhelm him.

One single thought came to the forefront:  _Bad Wolf and immortal Jack Harkness are children of the TARDIS. They were born of the Vortex that came out of the Heart of the TARDIS.  The TARDIS created them, using the raw power within her._

“Ooooh!!!  Oh, oh, _oh_!,” he cried suddenly and forcefully, grabbing huge tuffs of his hair and yanking them as if he could pull the thoughts from his head.  “Oh, I am so _THICK_!  Old, and stupid and thick!!!  Mister Thickety-Thick-Thick-from Thicksville, Thickania!!!  I should never have called poor Mickey Smith by that name, because it’s ME!!!”

The bedroom door slammed open and into the wall as Pete and Jackie burst in, eyes wild with alarm.  Jackie was wielding a huge butcher knife from the kitchen and striking an aggressive pose.

“What is it?  What’s going on?” she shrieked.  “Is there someone in here?  WHERE IS HE???”  She waved the knife menacingly, clearly ready to defend her home against invaders.

The Doctor gulped and backed away with his hands up in a defensive posture, wondering if this is where Jackie finished the job from this morning.

“No, no, no, Jackie!  There’s no one up here, I swear!  It’s just me!  Please put the knife down, _please_ …”

She lowered the knife a bit, apparently not quite convinced of the security of her home.  “Well, why the bleedin’ ‘ell were you screamin’ like a godforsaken banshee, then?” she demanded.  The Doctor noted, ever observant, that Pete, Head of the mighty Torchwood One, made sure he was _behind_ his wife and well out of the range of her knife arc.  “You scared us both spitless, you idiot!”

“Oh, I’m so, so sorry, Jackie.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  It’s just that… that… can you put the knife down first?” he asked, more calmly.

Jackie dropped the knife hand down, then stared expectantly at the Doctor.  He grinned.

“Oh, Jackie… Pete… I think I’ve figured it out.  I think I know who I am now.  I think I know why I’m really here!”

“What the deuces are you on about now, Doctor,” she asked with hand, including knife, on hip.

“I’m the child of the TARDIS, Jackie.  _She_ created me.  For Rose!”

“The TARDIS created you,” she scoffed.

The Doctor nodded his head excitedly, making his loose hair flop about until it landed into his eyes and hid them like a sheepdog.

“Oh, think about it, Jackie,” he began manically.  “She’s been in control all of this time, and I never saw it.”

Finally laying the knife on the dresser, she let the Doctor lead her and Pete to sit on his bed.

“I lost my hand in the battle with the Sycorax Leader, and I didn’t know what happened to it until Jack jumped onto the TARDIS and the TARDIS fled with him on the outside to the end of the universe, to a place called Utopia.  Long story, but that’s when I got the hand back from Jack.  And we, oh, traipsed around it in the TARDIS for a while, didn’t really think about it.  Sort of a novelty, it was.  Then when Rose returned to our universe… the old universe, I mean… I got winged by a Dalek death ray and… _BAMM_.. started to regenerate.  I didn’t want to change again, because I knew Rose liked me the way I was, so I used enough of the regenerative energy to heal myself and then I directed the rest of the energy into my old hand.”  He waved his right hand, wriggling the fingers to illustrate.  “Love the hand!  But anyway, didn’t think much of it again.”  He gulped in a deep breath after his long winded diatribe.

“The hand sat there with all that regeneration energy in it until the time was right, when we were on the Dalek Crucible.  Remember being on the Crucible, Jackie?  Donna got locked into the TARDIS and they were dropped into the Z-neutrino core of the ship.  All this time, I didn’t understand how Donna got locked into the TARDIS, because the Supreme Dalek denied having anything to do with it.

It was the TARDIS herself who locked Donna inside her, Jackie!  Isn’t that brilliant?  The TARDIS locked Donna inside the TARDIS so she could telepathically influence Donna to touch the hand to give her a Time Lord psyche, so that Donna could become the Doctor-Donna and save all of Creation.”

“And I,” he chortled, “I became little ‘ol me!  A human-Time Lord with both Donna’s human DNA and Donna’s consciousness.  The TARDIS sparked the two-way Instantaneous Biological Meta-crisis _herself_ , using the regenerative energy stored in the hand.  She, the TARDIS that is… she simultaneously created the Doctor-Donna, and a separate but identical version of the Doctor’s consciousness from the hand, but with enough human DNA to engender a living… uhm… er… well, a part human Time Lord compatible with a… a… uhm, human woman,” he trailed off.  He grimaced and rubbed his neck self-consciously, half expecting another slap.

Jackie’s open-mouth stare of confusion indicated he was safe for the moment.  

“Doctor, I didn’t understand two words of what you just said,” whinged Jackie.  

“That’s ok, Jacks,” interrupted Pete.  “I’ll explain it to you later, sweetheart.”  From Pete’s expression, he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to explain the Doctor’s verbal diarrhea.

“But whaddya mean that you were created just for Rose?” she asked.

“Weeelll, Jackie.  You remember when I was the big Northern bloke with the ears, and you helped Rose open the TARDIS console?”

“Yeah, I remember,” she nodded.  “Borrowed me friend’s tow truck for that.  Rose took off in the TARDIS, an’ the next thing I know, you show up in his place.”

“Well, Rose took in the Vortex energy from the Heart of the TARDIS, the energy that’s at the center of the console.  I had to take it out of her, because it was too strong.  And then the old me died and regenerated,” he said somberly.

“Rose always had a special connection to the TARDIS after that,” he went on.  “I think the TARDIS always loved Rose, and she wanted her to have her own Doctor.  A part-human Doctor, all of her own.  A Doctor who could be with her his entire life, and go on the adventure the other Doctor never could.”

Jackie stared at the Doctor for a long time, and then looked back at Pete.  Looking back at the Doctor, she said, “I don’t care whether the TARDIS is your Mum or not.  I coulda told you a long time ago that you and Rose belonged together.  Ya didn’t have to scare me half to death to tell me that!”

Getting up to retrieve the knife, Jackie left one parting shot before walking out the door, Pete in tow.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten.  We have a little talk yet to be had, you and me.  As soon as Tony’s in bed after dinner, we’re meetin’ in the library, _capice_?”

Pete turned to the Doctor and gave him a crooked smile.  “Good luck with that, mate!”

The Doctor watched them leave the bedroom, still glowing from his epiphany.

_I was meant to be here!  I wasn’t abandoned.  I’m not a reject.  I was meant to be here!  For Rose, with Rose._

He smiled.  He had a lot of work, and damage control, ahead of him, it seems.


	7. One Man, One Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II and Jackie have their discussion after dinner. Once again, Jackie throws Ten II off and proposes an unorthodox strategy for winning Rose back.

 

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed rapidly for the Doctor.  Before he knew it, he was animatedly talking over dessert with his… family.

_When_ , exactly, had he started thinking of Pete, Jackie and Tony as his family?  _His family._ The words and the warmth that came with them frightened him more than a bit.  He hadn’t thought of having a family since before the War.  The loss of his family on Gallifrey and across the universe, his entire House, his House’s long heritage, had been the cruelest of icing on the bitter cake that was the loss of his entire species and planet.  To preserve his sanity, if one could say he preserved any, he never allowed himself to think for an instance that he might ever again have such a thing.  He never allowed himself the luxury of thinking he ever _deserved_ to have another family.

And oh, what a rag-tag family he now found himself in.  A woman from an alternate universe, dead in this one, married to a man from this universe, who himself was dead in the other.  Together they had built a home and a life together with their son.  Their son, Tony, was the unique product of two different dimensions.  Tony, who sometimes referred to the Doctor as his uncle, was actually more akin to a brother.  If, by some miracle, the Doctor was able to accomplish what he hoped he could, Tony would eventually become his brother-in-law.

_Timey-whimy, wibbley-wobbly._ _A family as such only a Time Lord could have.  Actually, a family only as such a Time Lord could create._

And there was no doubt that he’d had a hand in the creation of this family.  He’d played match-maker between Pete and Jackie.  Granted, Pete and Jackie didn’t need much encouragement, but he’d seen the convergence of potential timelines.  Both he and the other Doctor had seen that Rose Tyler’s timelines could go either way, but the most potential existed in the parallel universe he now inhabited.

What he _couldn’t_ see, because no Time Lord could see his _own_ timelines clearly and directly (other than where he’d been, like a breadcrumb trail to avoid paradoxes), was how he would fit within Rose’s family in Pete’s World.  Or that he even _could_.

_Ooooooh_ _, but the other must have seen mine,_ he thought.  He hadn’t thought of that.  He was used to not having a sharp vision of his own timeline, and actually, Time Lords instinctually avoided looking at their own.  He never thought of how the other Him saw _his_ timeline, because he never once thought that he _could_.  The first tenth Doctor, the original Doctor, was _him_ , after all.

But the point of _divergence_ was the moment he was created.  It wasn’t much of a divergence in those first few hours, but their timelines would have started separating and unraveling slowly from that moment on.  He was _still_ the Doctor, but a different Doctor.  Like psychic twins, they were inextricably linked by common memories and experiences, yet separate and distinctly apart in memories, experiences and bodies after the Meta-crisis.

_Oh, poor Rose.  No wonder you’re confused!  We were Time Lords, and even we couldn’t figure it out at first.  How could I have articulated something I hadn’t yet fully understood myself?  And perhaps, I hope anyway, he understood that I would have forever stood in his shadow if I’d stayed with him._

Dinner and dessert was over all too soon, and Jackie was busy preparing Tony to settle down for the night.  Rather than have Jackie take the initiative, he decided he’d wait for her in the library.  He picked a book from the shelf at random, which was his custom since he’d arrived in Pete’s World, and settled down to read.

_Oi_ _, of course._ _ Moby Dick.  Not a good omen, is it?  The marks on my face have finally faded, and soon I may have harpoon puncture marks to replace them._

Sighing, he decided to start reading the book, and was fascinated to find there were subtle differences in Melville’s classic in the parallel world.  In this version, Ahab was still just as obsessive, mad and tyrannical, but he survived along with Ishmael.  By the time he finished the book, Jackie arrived into the library carrying a tray of tea and homemade biscuits.  Unless she’d baked aspirin into the biscuits, aspirin still being a lethal poison for his new body, his fortune seemed to be improving.

“There you are,” she said as she set down the tray.  “Thought you’d be upstairs, so I checked there first.”

“Thought I’d do some reading while I waited for you, Jackie,” he said with a slight smile.  “Did you know that _Moby Dick_ reads a little differently in this universe?”

“Nope, ‘cause I didn’t read it in ours,” she replied.  “I’m more of a Mills & Boone girl, myself.”

The Doctor was thankful he didn’t have tea or biscuit in his mouth yet, or it would have fallen out.  Shutting his jaw so quickly his teeth clicked, he hoped Jackie hadn’t caught his expression.

He took a deep breath.  “Sooooo,” he drawled, looking around the room.  “I don’t see any drop cloths or plastic sheets out to catch blood spatter, Jackie.”

“Aww, you,” she said with a little giggle.  “We’re not havin’ this talk one-sided, and I’m not gonna slap you, unless you don’t keep a civil tongue in your head.  I jus’ think we need to have a little heart-to-heart.  An’ I’m sorry.  I’m really, really sorry I slapped you so hard this morning, but I couldn’t help myself, Doctor.  I can’t stand anyone hurtin’ me kids, ever.”

He nodded, looking down a little as she poured him a cup of tea.  “You were right to do it, Jackie.  I deserved it.  I didn’t exactly behave in a civilized manner with Rose.”

“Doctor, I consider you a part of this family.  Sometimes families fight over the daftest things, but we forgive each other and move on.  All the same, I don’t expect anything like that to happen ever again and I won’t tolerate it, but I forgive you this once.”

“Thank you, Jackie.  I promise you it’ll never happen again,” the Doctor said gravely.  She was surprised to see that there was something very different about the Doctor.  He was looking her directly in the eye, and she saw something she hadn’t seen since he’d arrived at the mansion.  There was a spark of life, a confidence she hadn’t seen in a long time in the cast of his features.  Something had changed.

“Rose and I talked before you came back, and again before she left for her flat,” she began.  “She told me a little bit of what happened.  She was wrong to say those things to you.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened in surprise.  Never would he have expected Jackie to take his side against Rose, no matter how mildly.  He was speechless.

“Is she ok?” he queried carefully.  He hoped he didn’t cause any serious bruises to her body or ego.

“She’s so confused, Doctor.  She had a dream that she would get back to the Doctor and the TARDIS, and she pursued it with all her heart and her energy for three years, day and night.  We watched her get hurt, many, many times, and then she’d go right back at it.  She was obsessed with getting back.  She didn’t care who she hurt or who she stepped on or used to do it.  We were very concerned about it, but no one was able to really stop her.  We were gutted about it.”

“She told me in so many words,” the Doctor said.  “I hadn’t known how much she’d been through.  It sounds like she almost lost her life a few times.”

“More than a few, Doctor.  Much more.”

“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.  The sadness in his huge brown eyes and a hitch in his breath told her everything.

“Do you love her, Doctor?”

“Yes,” he answered emphatically.  “I’m but one man, and I have but one heart and one life, as you well know.  I may not be exactly the same man living the same lifestyle that she was looking for.  But I’m him in that I remember every minute we shared together when I _was_ him, and I love her just as much.  He could never give her what she needs, Jackie.  He knew that.

He lives a dangerous life, you know that.  He hasn’t survived much longer than four years per regeneration his last few lives.  He’s the Last Time Lord in that universe, and he has responsibilities that he can’t delegate or shirk.  There’s no one to delegate them to since the Last Great Time War.  All of the other Time Lords are gone.  He lived everyday worrying if he was going to lose Rose somehow, even if it was to old age.  He knew that eventually he had to go on without her, and it hurt him terribly to think about that day.  He knew he probably could never keep her completely safe, or settle down and have a family with her.  It was the one adventure he could never have.”

“But you can,” Jackie asked, looking deeply into his eyes.  “You can settle down and have a family with her?  She said you could make another TARDIS or something.”

He nodded slowly.  “I think so.  I mean, it wouldn’t matter because I don’t have his responsibilities.  At least, not the same level of responsibility to the universe.  I don’t need to run around righting every wrong in the universe.  It would be futile, anyway.  

You know I’m part human, thanks to Donna.  My lifetime is only a drop in the bucket, compared to his.  I might make it another seventy years or a little more, but that’s only if I’m lucky.  If I grow the TARDIS, it’ll be to travel with her or our family, and I’d never take them into harm’s way.

And there’s another benefit of being part human; one that I haven’t mentioned to either of you yet.  According to the medical scans, there exists the potential for us to have children together.  The chances are quite good, actually.  We’re more genetically compatible from a reproductive standpoint, if that’s what she wants.  I even sleep longer, closer to a normal human sleep pattern, so I wouldn’t be bouncing around like Tigger all night while she’s in bed.

I’m not afraid to say forever, Jackie.  _My_ forever, Jackie… not just hers!  I’m not afraid to promise to spend it with her, if only she’ll take it.  Just think, I can grow old with her, Jackie!  She wouldn’t have to grow old and watch as I looked a youthful thirty-five the entire time.  Or even worse, regenerate into what looks like an even younger man.  I wouldn’t have to dread eons of time lonely without her because I live too long.  I only have one life to live, and I want it to be with her.”

He handed Jackie a napkin as her eyes filled with tears.  “But I supposed I’ve mucked that all up now, eh?” he added with a wry smile.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Doctor.  She’s a stubborn woman.  An’ she’s still loyal to the other one.  She’s not seeing you as the Doctor at all.  She’s worried that the other Doctor is out there alone, and it’s driving her mad.”

“She’s not completely wrong,” he said, catching Jackie by surprise.  ‘But there’s something she doesn’t know, Jackie.  There’s someone in his future.  Someone I’m almost 100% sure he’s going to marry someday.  It could be one year, or 200 years in the future, for all we know.  Neither of us knows quite when in his timeline it will be, but we’ve met her.”

“You’ve met his future wife?!?”  Jackie’s eyes were wide with shock.  “How do you know he’ll marry her?”

He looked a little disturbed as he swallowed hard.  “She knows something.  Something that she could only know if they were in a very close, very formal relationship.  Something that only he could tell her.  He couldn’t have told her it outside a very important ritual.  She knew my Gallifreyan name.  Not the one that I chose, not _the Doctor_.  She knew my _real_ name, Jackie.  And it shocked us to the core.”

Jackie couldn’t help but to notice that he now periodically referred to himself and the other Doctor as “ _we”_ and was more likely to call the other “he” in conversation.  It wasn’t consistent yet, but the separation of identities was in progress.  “You need to tell her, Doctor.  You need to tell her about this other woman.  Maybe she’ll understand that he won’t always be alone.”

“Maybe.  I’m not sure if that’s the right thing to do, Jackie.  Won’t it just hurt her?”

She nodded.  “I’m sure it will, at first.  But it needs to be said.  She needs to understand that he’s gonna move on in the other universe, and that he has a future that won’t include her.”

“But that’s not my future.  I’ll never see her again; River Song is her name.  But he will.  I was everything that he ever was.  But now I realize that I’m much, much more.  I’m the Doctor, but I’m also my own man,” he said with boldness and decisiveness she hadn’t heard since before the Doctor split into two.  “I need to make my own way in this world.  Right now, she just sees me as a copy, an inferior copy, of what she remembers.  I don’t really exist for her as a complete man.  Somehow, I’ve got to convince her that I can stand on my own two feet and gain respect.  That I’m worthy of her love in my own right.”

He smiled another crooked smile.  “I don’t need a TARDIS for that, do I?”

“No you don’t,” Jackie agreed.  “Although, you might wanna start with a proper job.”

“Saw that one coming,” he laughed.  “I’m going to ask Pete tomorrow about going into Torchwood One with him next week.  I may accept his offer to work there in research.”

“Oh, Doctor!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.  “That’s wonderful!”

“I don’t think Rose will like it, though,” he added with a frown.

“Don’t you worry about that.  She’ll get over it.”

“I’m not so sure about that.  We didn’t exactly part on good terms,” he half moaned.

“You made more of a dent then ya think, Doctor.  I think she saw more of the Doctor in you last night then since you first came here.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Oh, fantastic.  The worst part of the Doctor, that is.  She probably doesn’t want to be within 100 yard of me now.  What am I going to do?”

“You’re gonna make her respect you, that’s what you’re gonna do,” Jackie shot back, a hard glitter to her eyes.

“You think I should get a flat of my own?  Show I can take care of myself?  Prove I’m not afraid of mortgages, even if I truly am?”

“No, not jus’ yet, love.  Build up a little nest egg first, then let’s talk about it,” she said.

Puzzled, he seemed a little unsure of himself suddenly.  “Then what?”

“I think you should start seeing someone else.  Nothing serious, just casual little dates or outings with another woman,” Jackie blithely said with a wave of her hand.

The Doctor almost dropped his cup of tea, right then and there.

“What?!?,” he yelped.  “WHAT?”  His eyes were huge and round.  His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline.

“You heard me.  Start goin’ out with some hotsy-totsy socialite that’s everythin’ she ain’t,” she nodded sagely.

“Jackie, have you gone completely mad?” he asked, totally incredulous.  “No.  No, no, no, no, no!”

“No, Doctor, please hear me out,” she explained as he shook his head vigorously.

“Jackie, I _can’t,_ ” he said, almost sounding like he was going to start hyperventilating.  “I just _can’t_.  I literally, literally just can’t.  How could you think I could ever do something like that?!?”

“Doctor, let me explain something to you.  There is nothin’, nothin’ at all, that will get a woman’s attention faster than it lookin’ like her man is gettin’ away.  Trust me on that.”

By now the Doctor was truly agitated, panting a bit and pulling at his hair as if he was in terrible distress, which he was.  “Jackie… Jackie… I can’t begin to tell you how… absolutely… positively… _barmy_ that sounds!  How in Krop Tor is that supposed to create trust between us, let alone respect?”

“Look, the two of you had a fight.  She’s feelin’ a bit guilty about what she said.  She’s even questionin’ whether she’s right about you _not_ bein’ the Doctor.  Now is the perfect time to do it… to let her _think_ that you’re doin’ it because she didn’t show you proper respect.  You need to strike while the iron is hot,” she emphasized by pounding her fist into her hand.

“There’s been no one for me since long before I met Rose,” he admitted, still shaking his head.  “I can’t start seeing other women now.  I can’t start cheating on her right after telling her I love her.  That’s absolutely barking mad!”

“Oi, I didn’t say anything about cheatin’ on her!  You don’t have to _shag_ ‘em, you know!  All’s you got to do is show you have somethin’ that other women want.  You’re gorgeous, you can have any woman you want, and you’re _hurt_.  Don’t let that go to your head, by the way,” she added with an eye roll.  “That’s just your tag line.”

The Doctor was scrubbing his face now, trying to rein in his whirling thoughts.  “I dunno, Jackie.  I just dunno.  This is so confusing and so counter-intuitive.  And it makes my single heart hurt.  I’d only gotten a little used to just one.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a bloke and you’re all gormless,” she insisted.  “It’ll work to get her attention, I promise you.  And according to Rose, it’s not like you haven’t run off with other women before.”

He stopped and sat stock-still now, mouth open, face contorted in consternation.”  “WHAT?!?  WHAT?!?”

“Yup.  Told me all about how you ran off and left her and Mickey to be with that French whore, Madame de Pomp… Pomp… something.”

“Pompadour… Reinette,” he stated flatly.

“That’s her!  Said ya didn’t even have a way of gettin’ back to ‘em.”

“I never!  I didn’t _run off_ with her, Jackie.  She was about to get killed by some clockwork droids, and I had to preserve the timelines.  She was a fixed point in time!  I couldn’t just let it go.”

“Said you bragged about snoggin’ her,” Jackie glared.

“Oi!” he yelped.  “She snogged _me,_ not the other way around!”

“Ooooh, so you do admit to snoggin’ some of the ladies since you met my Rose,” Jackie snorted in vindication.  “Who else ya been snoggin’, eh?”

Suddenly the Oncoming Pout appeared.  “Nobody,” he muttered.  “Weeelll, only a couple, and it isn’t what you think, Jackie!”

“Who else, _Doctor?_ ”  She fixed him with a stony look that made him squirm a bit.

“I swear, it’s not what you think.  I mean, once… just once, I had to do a genetic transfer to Martha.  It only _looked_ like I snogged her, an’ that… that was just so the Judoon thought she wasn’t human.  And the only other time was with Donna, but that was completely and utterly for shock value and I couldn’t know she was going to do it.  I needed it to detox from a poisoning.  Oooh, wait.  I forgot about Astrid on the Titanic.  But she was disintegrating into star dust at the time, so that shouldn’t count.  And then there was the time I had to kiss Martha’s Sontaran-created clone, although the details on why I had to do that are fading… but I assure you it was not for pleasure, oh no.  Oooooh… and I almost forgot about Joan Redfern when I went into hiding from the Family of Blood.  Now, that… that…that was a real kiss, but it totally… I mean literally… cannot count for any reason whatsoever, because I was not in my right mind, had none of my memories, and thought I was some bloke named John Smith.”

Jackie looked as if she were about ready to deliver one of her stinging slaps, causing the Doctor to sit back on the sofa.  “Anyone ya missed,” she asked sarcastically.

“Jack.  Jack Harkness, and I swear, Jackie.  I swear that’s it.”

“Jack?  You kissed Jack Harkness,” she asked with a look of disgust on her face.

“Yup,” he said with a pop of the “p” at the end.  “I’d rather not talk about it.  I’m still traumatized.”

“Doctor, all that sucking face, and now you’re gonna sit there and tell me you haven’t _been with_ anyone, other than a snog here and there… and everywhere, apparently… since you met Rose?”

“Yup, I haven’t _been_ with anyone like that in… oh… at least two regenerations,” he confirmed.  He frowned.  “Maybe even longer.  It’s been awhile.”

“No shaggin’, you’re tellin’ me.”

“Nope,” he said emphatically, with another pop of his “p”.

“Not even with the French tart.”

“Especially not with the Fren… uhm… Reinette.  I mean, she was attractive.  Brilliant, I’ll say that.  I did find her attractive, but I didn’t touch her.”

“So what were you waitin’ for, Doctor.  Seems like women were throwin’ themselves at you.”

“Well, part of the time before I met Rose, I was not in a good place emotionally.  It was after the War, and I didn’t let anyone near me.  Didn’t travel with anyone, even.  Rose was the first after the War.”

“You mentioned a War before.  You were in a War?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.  “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And after you lost Rose at Canary Wharf?” she pressed.

“I was in mourning.  Wore blue a lot.  Blue’s the color of mourning… was the color of mourning… on Gallifrey.  No one could hold a candle to Rose.  I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone replacing Rose,” he said quietly.  “Donna just showed up out of the blue on the TARDIS.  We had an understanding that we were just mates.  I never intended to ever have another traveling companion.”

“So, you kinda want to save yourself for Rose then, so that’s why you don’t wanna go out with anyone else?”

The Doctor’s neck and face turned a startling crimson in embarrassment.  “Oi, no!  No!!  I mean… Oh, Rassilon’s Rod of Lordly Might, woman!  Can you emasculate a bloke more?!?”  He scrubbed his face in frustration.  “Yes,” he finally mumbled from behind his hands.

“Oh, Doctor,” Jackie said, obviously very touched.  “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.  You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“Jackie,” he began in earnest.  “You can’t tell Rose that!  Please don’t tell her that… don’t tell _anyone_ that.  I’d die a million deaths!”

“Thought you only had the one life, you silly alien,” Jackie teased.

“I’d die every nanosecond.  Time Lord, me.  Promise me, Jackie!”

“I promise.  Your secret’s safe with me, Doctor,” she stated sincerely.

_Why… oh, why, do I find myself confiding in Jackie Tyler?  Oh, how the mighty have fallen,_ he thought.  _This has to be Donna’s influence!  But if she can help me get back to Rose… she may be exactly the ally I need. No one knows Rose better than she._

“By the way, Jackie.  I was thinking of sending some flowers to Rose in the morning, with an apology note.”  _Anything to get off this subject,_ he thought.

“I think that’s a grand idea,” she said with approval.

“Do you think roses are too cliché?  Roses for Rose?” he ventured.

“I don’t think so,” she said.  “I would hope she’d be touched.  And it might be perfect timing.  She’ll be here tomorrow night for Sunday dinner.  She could thank you then.”

He blanched a little, the freckles across his cheeks and nose stood out against his pale skin.  “Oh,” he said, sounding a little faint of heart by the thought.

“Play it kind of cool, if you know what I mean.  You might not want to mention that you think you were made just for her,” she warned.  “Sounds a lit’l bit barmy.  And a lit’l desperate.”

“I get that,” he nodded.  “But do you think it’s ok if I mention how I think the TARDIS was responsible for my creation?  Let her reach her own conclusion?  I don’t know if she knows I took the Vortex energy from her, and that’s why my previous self died, although I think she may have figured it out.  Jack may even have told her.”

“That may be safe, if you make it sound like one of your adventures.  Sort of like how you tell Tony stories, eh?  It could make for fun dinner conversation.”

“Oookaay…,” he said, lost in thought.

“And Doctor.  Please think about what I said.  Sleep on it tonight,” she urged.  “I know a few girls who would do.  There’s no lack of beautiful, rich, bored heiresses around here who aren’t interested in commitment.  You wouldn’t be hurtin’ nobody.  And I’ll be watchin’ you, so you won’t be tempted to go astray no matter what,” she said with a wink.

“I don’t know, Jackie.  I just don’t know.  But I’ll… think about it,” he stated noncommittally.  

“We’ll tell ‘em that you’re just lookin’ for a mate.  Somebody to go to social functions with and eat at fancy restaurants every now and then.  You know.  You don’t even have to snog her.  You can be eye candy long enough for Rose to notice, right?  It wouldn’t take long, especially if you’re workin’ at Torchwood!  And don’t forget, you live in the Tyler mansion.  Everyone will be watchin’ and talkin’.”

He shuddered at the thought.  _Oh, the shame,_ he inwardly groaned.  _Eye candy._ _Aren’t I already eye candy?  Now I’m gonna look like an expensive escort?  Jackie, what are you trying to do to me????_

“Just leave the selection up to me.  A blind date, yeah?  Just to up your stock, yeah?”

“Let’s talk about this later, Jackie,” he whispered.  “I can’t get my head around it right now.  Maybe I’m just tired.”  

_And maybe I am doing exactly what you said.  I’m saving myself for Rose.  I don’t want to go out with anyone but Rose.  I don’t want to hold hands with anyone but Rose.  I don’t want to ever kiss anyone in this new body but Rose.  And the first time I…_

Stopping his train of thought, he looked over to Jackie and bid his goodnight.  Tomorrow would be the first day toward the rest of his life… with Rose.  On that he swore to any deity listening.


	8. The Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II prepares for Sunday dinner with the family and Rose. Rose ruminates over her loyalty to Ten and her frustrations over being back in Pete's World.

 

The Doctor didn’t sleep well that night.  For the first time since he’d started living in the Tyler mansion, he dreamt of the Time War.  Thankfully, it was not as intense or of the type that left him screaming loud enough to rouse the rest of the home’s occupants.  He did wake with a start, drenched in perspiration and gasping for breath.  The afterimage of Gallifrey burning, silver trees and shattered Citadel ablaze, only faded after he staggered to the en suite and stuck his head under the faucet.  The cold water made him gasp louder than ever, but it brought blessed relief from the turmoil going on in his fevered head.  The screams of the TARDIS still echoed in his ears.

To be honest, he wasn’t surprised by the nightmare.  His sleep had been interrupted by a tendency to toss and turn.  He would startle awake, and each time he would wake with Jackie’s proposal on his mind.  Like in the story of the Princess and the Pea, the hard kernel of distaste he felt for the tactic bruised him and would not let him rest.

In many respects, he did feel as if he were in the midst of a war of sorts.  Once again, he was being called to use every tool available, every strategy he or his advisors could develop, to breach the defenses of his opponent.  The wall of Rose’s disbelief in him seemed almost impossibly high and miles thick, but Jackie had given him hope last night.  There was a crack in the barrier now, and he had to find out how to widen it.

Of course, if one’s objective is to force the surrender of one’s opponent, not crush the very life from them, extreme caution had to be exercised.  In 700 years, never had the Doctor felt so conscious of his powers of destruction.  He had to get this right.

It was after 5.00 am, and he knew he wouldn’t get any additional sleep.  Quality sleep, anyway.  He took his shower and dressed.  He decided not to gel his hair, hoping to get Jackie to cut it for him.  He wanted to look well-groomed for dinner tonight, not like a stray with six weeks of overgrowth.  He also wanted to decide on how to pen his apology note before going to the flower shop when it opened.  He knew it would take him awhile to decide on the wording.

Normally, eloquence was something this incarnation swam through like a sailfish.  He should have been firmly in his element, but after about 25 balls of wadded paper ended up around his wastebasket next to the desk, he started to doubt himself.  It took him until 6.30 before he was satisfied with the body of the apology, but now the valediction was eluding him.

“Sincerely” and “Yours Truly” seemed so impersonal, so jaded, almost like a form letter.  “Love” and “Love Always” were right out.  As true as they were, he was certain they would be viewed with a jaundiced eye, presumptuous even, after the events of Friday night.  He finally settled on “Forever Yours,” for no other reason than they rang true and seemed less threatening, unctuous or desperate.  It left the door open without appearing to beg for attention.

Now, for the signature:  Of all the elements of the letter, this one caused him the most trepidation.  To use “The Doctor” seemed rather perilous, considering it was his insistence that he _was_ the Doctor that precipitated his loss of temper in the first place.  He remained convinced that he was perfectly within his rights to claim that identity, but it was at the very heart of the matter.

Trying “John Smith” on for size, or even “John N. Smith,” almost gave him heartburn.  It was quite true that it was his legal name in Pete’s World, and it appeared on all official documentation granted to him by Torchwood, but he felt as if he were a small child trying to walk in his father’s shoes.  It just didn’t fit.  He even tried simply signing off as “John,” but he quickly scratched it out.  Seeing it as an invitation to getting a “Dear John” letter, he firmly stuck a fork into the idea.

Frustrated finally, he flamboyantly scribbled a huge “D” in his characteristically loopy hand-writing, influenced by hundreds of years of writing modern Gallifreyan script with circles, lines and arcs. Yes, “D” for Doctor.  Not quite in your face, but still a small act of defiance and a gentle, or gentler, insistence that he had the right of self-determination.  He would not give that up for love.  If, say ten years down the road he decided he was more John Noble Smith than Doctor, he would ultimately make that determination, and no one else.

Folding the finished script and placing it into his pocket, he skipped down the stairs to have breakfast with the Tylers, his loose hair flopping about completely out of control.  Jackie took one look at him, a huge silly grin plastered all over his face and eyes peering through fly-away bangs, and offered him a haircut.  He couldn’t help himself; he smirked at how well his plan worked to get Jackie to trim his hair without asking.

_Ah yes.  Lose the battle, but win the war_ , he gloated inwardly.  For the first time in what seemed like ages, he felt a surge of competitiveness streak through him.  His natural rebellious nature, something he had retained throughout every regeneration, was starting to re-emerge.

Rather jocular through breakfast, causing Jackie and Pete to give each other an occasional look, the Doctor talked non-stop.  By the time breakfast was over, he’d made tentative plans with Pete to shadow him at Torchwood on Tuesday, pitched several ideas about goal-setting for his new position (should he accept, of course), and queried Pete thoroughly on Torchwood’s policies and departmental mission statements.

Jackie seemed relieved to take the Doctor into the kitchen for his haircut, just so she could tell him to sit still and shut up.  He had learned to trust his precious _coiffure_ with Jackie, formerly a hairdresser while living in the Powell Estate, even before she left her universe.  Master of the rounded, pleading puppy-dog eyes look, he had often managed to wheedle favors from her.  Jackie was sure her maternal instincts were being played; but she was a willing participant, and the Doctor was able to enjoy his trademark spikey locks whenever he liked.

Pete and Tony would lean against the kitchen doorframe to watch, intrigued and entertained by this strange bonding ritual between the two, which went something like this:

“I said to sit still, you alien worm!”

“I _am_ sitting still, Jackie.”

“Oi, stop purrin’ and squirmin’!”

“I can’t help it.  It feels good when someone massages my scalp.”

“You’re not gettin’ off on this, are you, Doctor?!?  I’m holdin’ a pair of very sharp scissors in me hand right now, and I know how to use ‘em.”

“That’s just… disgusting, Jackie.  Time Lords don’t do that.  Complete control over my body’s reaction to stimuli, thank you very much.”

_Snort._

“Really, Jackie.  Well documented fact.  Legendary, even.”

“ _Oi_ _,_ I said to _sit still!_ You’re gonna get a big bald spot in the back of your head if you don’t.”

“Are we done, yet?”

Once completed, the Doctor was quite pleased with the results.  Hair gelled to spikey perfection, he immediately headed off to the local flower shop in search of the equally perfect floral apology.  He was waiting at the door when the shop opened.  Settling on a simple arrangement of two dozen pink and yellow roses in a bright blue, gilded vase, he carefully wrote his note with a flourish on a tastefully traditional blank card.  He arranged for the flowers to be delivered to Rose’s flat by 10.30 am, remembering that Rose tended to be a late riser.

He loved little shops, so he couldn’t resist popping into the men’s shop next door.  Perusing the large selection of silk ties, he settled on three geometric designs that suited his fancy.  One could never have too many silk ties, naturally.

Checking his reflection in the shop window before he left, he smiled and walked to his car with a lightness to his step that had been absent for far too long.

###############

Rose Tyler, _Defender of Earth_ , woke as she usually awakened each morning; which is to say, reluctantly and blearily.  It was 8.00 am on a Sunday, a decadently late hour for her.

For the past three years she had customarily awakened at 4.00 am to launch herself out of bed and get started on the Dimension Cannon project.  Head of the Development and Research — Dimensional Reconnaissance department, she had also been its biggest guinea pig.  Much to her bitter chagrin, the department, and the Cannon, had been shut down and disbursed soon upon her return to Pete’s World.

The truth of the matter was that the Dimension Cannon no longer worked now that the breach between the dimensions had been sealed.  It had only worked before because of Davros’s weakening of the walls between the worlds with the Reality Bomb, but that fact didn’t deter her one iota.  She was determined to get back to the parallel world; her world:  The world that the Doctor and TARDIS inhabited.

Recently reassigned to the Mobile Response — Field Special Investigations Unit, she now combed locations throughout the world, often accompanied by UNIT, wherever there was evidence of extraterrestrial involvement.  Although it was not what she truly wanted to do, it did provide her with a little of the adrenaline rush she craved.  And, from Pete’s perspective anyway, it kept her out of the hair of the researchers in the technology departments, who she’d ridden relentlessly for three years.  She was certainly better suited for the MRU than the desk job she’d taken the first year at Torchwood.

Dragging herself to the little kitchenette of her relatively modest flat, she set a kettle on the stove to make a strong cup of tea.  Oh, how she missed her Mum’s tea!  No one could make a better cup of tea than Jackie Tyler.

Crossing over to the bay window of the living room, she opened the vertical blinds to look out over the marina, the Thames and Canary Wharf.  A mere ten minute walk to Torchwood Tower, she had chosen the flat for its geographic position so that she could reach the office quickly, if necessary.  It was remarkably tidy, compared to her old room back in the TARDIS, possibly because she didn’t spend all that much time there.  A well-worn couch in her office could attest to that.

Grabbing the whistling kettle back in the kitchen, she carefully poured water into an enormous mug with two teabags, adding two sugar cubes and a dash of milk before settling down with her tablet on the leather couch that demarcated the living area.  She scanned the news headlines for anything of interest, but it soon became apparent she wasn’t seeing them.  She stared into space, lost in thought.

“How did I get here,” she whispered quietly to herself.  “How could I be back here again?  This isn’t how it’s s’pose to end.”

It was completely unfathomable to Rose Tyler how she could get so close, after three grueling and terrifying years of searches through multiple dimensions, actually find the Doctor, and then end up back in her old flat.  _Sans_ Doctor.

She could have accepted it if he’d been there with her.  Admittedly, she’d had more than a few fantasies of bringing him to her flat to show him how she’d lived all those horrible years without him.  Of sitting with him, deep in conversation, right here on this very sofa.  Of possibly doing other things; things she’d not dared to really hope for in her life on the TARDIS.

After her tearful confession to his image on that damned beach in Norway, she was sure… so sure… of how he would have ended his final transmission.  If only she could get back to him so he could finish those words.  Those three words that she knew were on his lips.

They had to be those three words she had imagined him saying countless time in her dreams.  She had seen them shine in his eyes; felt them in his touch.  Even as the big Northerner with dark hair and even darker looks, he hadn’t been able to hide his love for her.  She _knew_.

_“Does it need saying?”  No, but I wanted to hear it.  How hard is it to say?  Three simple words…  You just had to keep babbling and not say it, didn’t you?  A Time Lord who runs out of time.  How rubbish is that???_

Yes, she was determined to get them out of him.  She had given him her forever, and all she had asked in return was to be at his side and hear him say those words at least once.  It was the least he could do after all she had done to get back to him.

All of that pain, suffering, broken bones was for him.  Psychoanalytic sessions, years of antidepressants and tranquilizers.  Sleepless nights of unending tears that tore her heart asunder, surgeries to put her back together like a broken doll.  Treatment for burns that were more agonizing than the burns themselves.  Ruptured spleen, ruptured gallbladder, scarred kidneys and lacerated liver.  Her once flawless and youthful body was now a crisscross of scars.  She would never let herself be seen in a bikini again, that was for sure.

Yes, it needed to be said, damn him.  She would hear it, even if she had to turn to his clone to get it.  And so, she had challenged him.  She finally, out of desperation, turned to that anomalous copy that stood next to her.  A proxy of sorts, he would have to do.

“And you, Doctor?” she had asked, hoping he would not disappoint her.  He hadn’t.

_“Rose Tyler, I love you,”_ he had whispered into her ear.

On impulse, she had grabbed him and kissed him soundly in triumph.  She would show the Doctor the reward he would have gotten for that answer.  Perhaps, seeing her kiss another man, even an identical copy of himself, would make him understand what a fool he was being by denying her and suggesting that she should remain behind.

Nothing would prepare her for the shock of hearing the TARDIS leaving.  Tossing the copy aside, she ran to the TARDIS, only to watch as it faded away.  The Doctor, without so much as a goodbye, had left with a new ginger companion at his side.  One who was as brilliant as he, not a bottle-blonde shop girl from the Estates.  He had slipped through her fingers like a Gelth, an incorporeal wraith, and left her standing on the beach a universe away.  It was worse than a nightmare.  It was incomprehensible and unthinkable.  It wasn’t supposed to end like that.

She was in shock, she knew.  Barely registering the copy coming behind her to hold her hand, she continued to stare at the imprint in the sand, expecting the TARDIS to come back.  It had to be some kind of joke.  He looked so much like the Doctor.  Identical, really.  Had they switched clothing, she would not have been able to distinguish between the two.  Leaning against him finally, she walked with him and her Mum to a tiny hamlet a few miles away.  Her thoughts were in shambles, not coherent at all.

It was only on the car ride to Bergen, sitting next to him in the back seat, that she started feeling the reality of being back in this world.  He chattered, constantly, on and on about the things she and the Doctor had done. 

_“Do you remember, Rose, when we were on New New Earth, and the cats with nun’s whimples,” or “Remember that gorgeous little restaurant that served the best Tulurean-style squid with the little eyes you couldn’t bear staring at you?“_

_Of course I remember.  I was there, you weren’t,_ she had thought testily.  Quickly tiring of his banter, she began thinking of how his parroting back of events was making her more morose than she already was.

_“I look like him. Think like him.  Same memories, same thoughts, same everything, except... I've only got one heart,”_ he had told her on the beach.  She couldn’t deny that he sounded like the Doctor, looked like the Doctor.  He even smelled like the Doctor.  But in the car he’d given not one indication that he was an independent being like the Doctor.  

The Doctor would have queried her about her life on Pete’s World after their separation.  He would have regaled her with countless stories of his adventures in her absence.  He would have told her how much he had missed her and regretted her not being with him.

But not this one.  Not the copy.  He was like a movie of someone you loved.  Static, unchanging, nothing new and alive, a movie only reminded you of what wasn’t sitting next to you.  Worse, he was an imperfect copy.

_“Remind you of someone?”_   The Doctor had said.  _“That's me, when we first met. And you made me better. Now you can do the same for him.”_ And how?  She couldn’t even call him by name.  It couldn’t be the Doctor.  The Doctor was on the TARDIS.

_So, you expect me to babysit this bastard child of yours, the imperfect copy?  Born in battle, you say.  Full of blood and anger and revenge._

And oh, how she had seen that up close only a few nights ago.  She had been terrified.  Looking into his eyes as he pinned her to the wall like a butterfly on cardboard, she’d felt the powerful muscles of his arms flex and hold her like steel.  His eyes, so much like the Time Lord’s when he faced down his enemies, had burned into her and transfixed her.  All that she could see were huge black orbs of… darkness… rage… intractable power… like an ancient and massive black hole, pulling her relentlessly within its grasp, claiming her through sheer force of will.

Rose shivered and pulled her robe tightly around her body, remembering that moment when the clone had pinned her to the wall in a rage.  The look he had given her, the look she had never, ever expected to be trained on _her,_ had struck a deep chord.  It vibrated through her body, reached right down and touched the very core of her.

For a split second, she had believed _he_ was really there.  _Her Doctor_ was there, as ancient and powerful and vital as she’d ever seen him.  For that very moment, she wanted to believe.  As petrified as she was, a part of her had wanted to throw herself at him, to feel that power wash over and overtake her.  She had been as horrified by her treacherous body’s reaction as she was terrified by his fierceness and passion.

_But he’s still not my Doctor.  My Doctor is trapped on the other side without me to watch over him.  He’s without me to take care of him.  Everyone else leaves him eventually, just as the ginger woman, Donna, will.  Only I can promise him forever.  I already have.  How can I give up on him now?_

_“He needs you.  That’s very me,”_ he had said.  Two Doctors, and one was still out there, loving her and grieving for her.  How could she just settle for his clone when she knew he was out there somewhere, needing her?

She still made regular pilgrimages to the Void Room, now a Torchwood stock room, to lay her head against the enormous, blank white wall and imagine she could feel _something_ through it.  Sometimes, she could almost feel the TARDIS reach out to her; hear her gentle groan and song… like distant whale song carried on the currents.

The loud buzzing from the doorman startled her out of her circuitous ruminations.  Her tea was ice cold, and she had been sitting on the couch doing nothing for over two hours.  She went over to the speaker and punched the button.

“Ms. Tyler, there’s a deliveryman here with flowers for you.  Shall I send him up?  His credentials check out.”

_Flowers?_ _Who would be sending her flowers,_ she wondered.  It wasn’t her birthday.

“Yes, please send him up, Geoffrey.”

“Will do, ma’am,” the doorman replied.

Rose skipped to her bedroom to find a tip for the deliveryman, then checked herself to make sure her robe covered her decently before opening the door.  Her eyes widened at the huge spray of pink and yellow roses coming down the hallway by the rather smallish young deliveryman.

Tipping him, she quickly took the vase full of roses to the coffee table for a closer look under natural light.  The rosebuds were firm, beautifully kissed with moisture, and they smelled divine.  Beneath them was an exquisite bright blue vase that immediately reminded her of the blue police box of her dreams.  Gold leaf gilded the top and bottom, and accented the pattern of the sides.  The glass itself was thin and exquisitely hand-blown.  It was not a cheap vase by any means.  It was a vase as one would expect to be sent to an heiress who had everything.

She pulled the tan and brown envelope from the stems and opened it.  With trembling hands, she read the note written in a familiar curly hand:

_Dear Rose,_

_I would like to express my deepest heartfelt apologies for my unbelievably beastly behavior on Friday night.  Your forgiveness is not expected, as I can never, ever, ever, forgive myself.  In all of my lives, I will never regret anything I’ve done more than the hurt I’ve caused you._

_Forever Yours,_

_D_

Sighing, Rose got up to make herself another mug of coffee, deep in thought.

“Sunday dinner is probably gonna be jus’ a bit more interestin’ than Mum an’ Dad thought,” she said to herself.


	9. Child of Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II has a strange dream involving two interesting beings.

 

He was walking slowly through fields of dark red grass, gazing up into an amber sky.  Rocky outcroppings of red, brown, purple and gold surrounded the fields and led him to the north.  A bloated reddish sun shone upon his back, warming him, and the sharp spire of a building loomed directly ahead.

_The Tomb of Rassilon._ He was on Gallifrey, and he was walking toward the wastelands of the Death Zone.

He didn’t know how he got there, or why he was there.  He couldn’t even see himself.  He felt young, though.  Not young as in being chronologically youthful, but he didn’t feel the burdens on his hearts that he had carried since the War.  Amazingly, he didn’t feel the crushing despair, guilt and grief that he usually encountered when thinking or dreaming of his native planet, in spite of the fact that he knew it was gone.  Placing his hand over his chest, he realized he had one heart beating there.  How odd.  _This_ him had never stood on Gallifrey.  It was long gone before his creation.

Plodding along, blissfully basking in the feel of the air and sun against his skin, the smells of Home, he became aware of a strong presence.  Opening his eyes, he glanced to his left and immediately stopped with a start.

An enormous white wolf was pacing him, its withers easily reaching the level of his waist.  Its tail was long, bushy, not unlike that of a squirrel or raccoon.  It was watching him with the darkest of brown eyes, like bitter chocolate - almost black in appearance - but fathomless, ancient and ageless at the same time.

_Do not fear, Child of Gallifrey, Child of Earth, Child of the TARDIS._ A deep, but feminine, voice reverberated in his head, speaking perfect High Gallifreyan.  An undercurrent of benevolence and acceptance accompanied the voice, like that of a mother or loving aunt, putting him a little more at ease.  He was fairly sure she was not about to attack him.  A niggling thought arose from the depths of his rational brain:  There were no wolves on Gallifrey, and certainly nothing quite like it on Earth.

“Wh-who are you,” he asked tentatively as he recovered his voice.

_I have many names, as do you,_ she responded.

“What should I call you?”

_You may call me “Tokos”, for lack of a better one._

“Tokos… Tokos,” he whispered quietly to himself.  The accent was difficult to replicate, even with his gift of tongues.

_Come,_ the wolf said as she urged him forward.  _Your next task awaits you._

“Are you… are you the... the... _Bad Wolf,_ ” he ventured as he followed and caught up to her.

A gentle laugh washed through his mind, sounding musical and light, almost like chimes in the wind.

_No, young one._   Her dark eye was full of mirth.  _I am the source from which she sprang._

“I’m hardly young,” he said.  “I’m over 900 years-old.”

_Older than that,_ came the sage reply.  _And yet, still the blink of an eye to some._

The Doctor mulled over that, trying to make sense of the enigmatic words of this strange creature that seemed to know so much about him.

“You created the Bad Wolf?  Do you come from the energy of the Vortex, then?”

A wolfy smile crossed her furry muzzle as she bared her teeth… frighteningly sharp and feral-looking teeth.

_Not quite,_ she replied cryptically.  _I exist within the Vortex and without, within the Void and without, within the multiverse and without.  They hold no power over me, nor can they touch  me.  You will not be able to understand, my Child._

Although he understood trans-dimensional space better than most, he couldn’t grasp how something could simultaneously exist beyond and within _everything and nothing._ But he’d once met a creature that said he existed before the creation of the universe.  Anything can happen, he thought.

“But I thought the Bad Wolf created herself,” he said, skipping to something he thought he might understand better.”

_It is I who created the Paradox_.

He was stunned.  Why would a creature of such enormous might and scope be interested in him?  The Bad Wolf was unimaginably powerful, manipulating the forces of life and death through her will alone.  This creature, Tokos, was saying that she had ultimately created even the Bad Wolf entity.

As if he had spoken aloud, the white wolf answered his question.

_We have come to journey with you for this brief moment, ‘though we are with you always, so that your conscious mind may understand.  Now that you have chosen your Path, you are ready to take on your next task.”_

“W-w-we?” he stammered.  There is more than one of them?

The wolf shifted her serene gaze over to his right.  He turned his head and gasped.

A gigantic white Terran-like lion, enormous mane shifting as he padded silently at his side, gazed down at him.  He was huge.  His ears towered at least a foot above the frightened Time Lord’s head.  Large ocean-blue eyes looked down at him, clear and depthless.  Like an Earth ocean, they teemed with life, vitality, and the same ancient and ageless quality as the wolf’s.  He was truly one of the most imposing creatures he had ever encountered so close.

Unable to contain his panic at the unexpected presence of the lion, the Doctor jumped back with a squeak and cowered against the wolf.

_Fear not, little one.  Seldom do I devour my own young,_ the lion intoned.  His voice in the Time Lord’s head was rich and silky smooth, like the best caramel or ganache.  It was not particularly deep for a male voice, but it was resonant, warm in timbre, somewhat quiet and almost unctuous.  Beneath it ran a hint of a smile.  And power and… danger.  This was not a creature to be tampered with.

The wolf leaned her head down to give the recovering Time Lord a gentle lick of reassurance to his neck.  Her smell was intoxicating, like cinnamon, sandalwood and musk.

_My mate,_ she explained.  _You may call him “Tau.”_

Straightening up, he took a few steps towards the lion and tried to calm his racing heart.  His efforts at gaining back his courage garnered a look of approval from the huge beast.

_You will need great courage, strength of character, wisdom and perseverance to complete this task. Such gifts you have in abundance already,_ Tokos told him.  O _n that single task, that cornerstone, the eventual fulfillment of your destiny lies._

“There must be a mistake,” he said as he hung his head slightly.  “I’m not the full Time Lord.  I’ve lost most of what it means to be a Time Lord when I became part human.  And we’re both so alone now.”  He spread his arms.  “All of this is gone.  We’re the only two remnants remaining, and I am nothing.”

_Time’s Champions may yet exist, as long as the Last Two Children of Gallifrey persevere,_ Tau said.  _But that is only a part of your destiny, and you will not fulfill it alone._

“Should the Time Lords return?  They were corrupt, heartless, xenophobic and power-mad.”

_Then see to it that they are not,_ Tokos said gently.  _You have been given a great gift:  A universe to protect and keep safe.  You do not need to burden yourself with the acts of your predecessor, only of your own actions._

“But... I have but one human lifespan to accomplish this.  How can I fulfill a panoptic destiny in such a short time?  Who will take up the banner when I am gone?” he protested.

_We did not say it would be easily accomplished, painless or quick,_ came the response from Tau.

_And we did say that you would not accomplish it alone,_ added Tokos.

“What must I do,” he sighed resignedly.

_Remember these words:  “The Storm must tame the Wolf”,_ said Tokos.

Eyes widening, he repeated her phrase.  “The Storm must tame the Wolf.”

Tau dropped his furry head close.  _“The Wolf must temper the Storm,”_ he said as he blew his warm breath on the Time Lord.  A heady fragrance, like burning amber and cloves, settled around his head and shoulders as he breathed it in.  He felt a calmness and strength seep into him, as if the great lion were giving him a benediction and imparting some of his power to him.

“The Wolf must temper the Storm,” he repeated.

_And now, we must take our leave,_ Tokos said sadly as she turned to move away.

“Wait!  Please,” plead the Time Lord as they both started moving swiftly away.  “What about him?  What about the Time Lord in the other universe?  Will he be helped, too?”

_But, of course,_ he heard faintly, as they both disappeared into thin air.

He sank down into the soft grass, a feeling of wonder come over him.  Drifting over the breeze, he thought he could hear an achingly familiar song.  _The TARDIS!_

His eyes snapped open, only to have the vision of red grass and rocks fade away to the white walls of his bedroom.  Evening sunlight was streaming through the curtains, causing him to blink in confusion.  Why was he in his bed?

Sitting up to look at the clock, he could see it was a little after 5.00 pm.  He remembered now.  He’d barely slept last night.  Desperately sleepy, he’d begrudgingly decided to take a kip before dinner.

Rubbing his eyes, he suddenly remembered the dream and scrambled to get a small notepad and pen from his bedside table.  Scribbling madly, he tried to capture every word of the interchange he’d had with the two mysterious beings, Tokos and Tau.

Reading over his words, he laughed.  The bizarre nature of the dream wasn’t what made him laugh, but the idea that he, a mere human-Time Lord Meta-crisis, was somehow worthy to be visited by a couple of god-like beings in his sleep.

“The Storm must tame the Wolf,” he muttered.  “The Wolf must temper the Storm.”

He repeated the phrases several times, trying to get past the obvious meaning.  He was sure the Storm was he, the _Oncoming Storm_.  The Wolf, no doubt, could be none other than the _Bad Wolf_.  The words seemed imbued with so much more meaning than on their face values.  But what?  Was his sub-conscious merely trying to make sense of his current situation?  Perhaps it was trying to bolster his confidence as he prepared to meet Rose at dinner time?  Why such an elaborate dream?

And what were they going on about with the Time Lords?  _Time’s Champions_ , they’d called them.  As far as he knew, there was only one who could claim that title of Time’s Champion, and it was no longer he.  But the beings spoke in the plural.

And how the Devil was he or the other Doctor supposed to bring the Time Lord’s back, anyway?  _Breed_ them back into existence?

“Oi,” he said with an emphatic nodding of his head.  “That…that would take a _loooong_ time, much longer than the maybe 70 years I have to live.  Oh, I can see it now.  I go to Rose and I say, ‘Rose, not only are we getting married and all because it’s our destiny, but you’re gonna have Time Tots until your womb falls out.’”

He broke into peals of hysterical laughter at the thought of the resulting mayhem.

Heading into the en suite, he wiped tears of mirth from his face as he prepared for Sunday dinner.


	10. What's on My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday dinner at the Tylers, and Rose joins them. Ten II tells a fairy tale to Tony about a Bad Wolf, and Rose gets the message. When she asks for additional information, things don't quite end like either of them expect.

 

The smells of roasted lamb and potatoes wafted through the house, giving it a homey feel.  The Doctor had been invited to cocktails in the family room with Pete.  Thirty minutes before the meal he’d gone downstairs to join Pete, who was well ahead of him in the imbibition game. 

Pete’s favorite poison was single-malt Scotch whiskeys, so he waved the Doctor over to the bar and pointed out a couple of his favorites.  A bottle of Lagavulin 16 year-old, and a Bruichlauddich in a black bottle that the Doctor didn’t quite recognize, sat on the bar. 

“What’s this?” he asked Pete, whose eyes were twinkling as brightly as old St. Nicholas’ on Christmas morning.

“Oh, that’s a man’s drink, son.  It’s called Octomore 3/152, one of the most heavily-peated single malts in the industry,” he said with pride.

“It’s from Bruichlauddich, so it’s obviously an Islay,” the Doctor murmured, proving he had some degree of knowledge in Scotch whiskeys.  In truth, he liked Scotch but wasn’t much of a drinker.  Time Lords were efficient in metabolizing alcohol and could control the degree of metabolism so that they would feel its effects only if desired.  Having had his masculinity challenged, he wasn’t about to refuse.

“I’ll try it, Pete.  But aren’t most Bruichlauddich whiskeys rather lacking in peat, compared to most Islays?”

“Correct.  Historically, Laddies aren’t particularly peaty,” Pete responded as he poured a generous dram into a whiskey glass.  “But in the past decade or so they’ve had some very progressive distillers who aren’t afraid to experiment.  Their bottlings are now all over the place in terms of peat content.  Let me know what you think,” he said as he handed the glass to him.

Swirling the sunny gold liquid in his glass, the Doctor finally took a gentle sniff of the whiskey.  His eyes widened as he took another, deeper sniff.

“Blimey,” he uttered quietly in surprise, drawing a deep chuckle from Pete.  He took a careful sip of the whiskey, closing his eyes as he let the warm liquid wash over his tongue.  A blissful look crossed his face as he savored it.

“Pete,” he finally began, “did they distill the entire Scottish bog into this?”

Pete broke into howls of laughter.  “No, Doctor, there’s actually a peatier distillation that they don’t release to the public.  Is it a bit too much for you?”

“Oh, no.  No, no, Pete.  It’s a shock of peat at first, like you’ve just taken a big bite of a block of peat bog.  But now I can taste a bit of… sea salt.  And licorice.  Lots of smoke.  Something like, dark chocolate and… something herbaceous.  Thyme, perhaps?”

“Very good, Doctor,” Pete said with complete approval.  “So, you like it?”

“I _love_ it!” he exclaimed.  “I wonder if they made this in the parallel world?  I would have been quite the lush if I knew this existed.”

Jackie swept into the room, dressed in a casual pantsuit, but hair arranged to perfection.  She stopped as soon as she saw Pete and the Doctor at the bar.  She gasped when she saw the Doctor.

“Oooh, Doctor!  You look _gorgeous,_ ” she cried.  “Come here and let me look at you.”

He blushed, something he still wasn’t quite used to doing, and approached Jackie with arms outstretched to show her what he was wearing.  He’d stuck to his usual dark denim jeans, a white broadcloth shirt, and layered it with a dark blue wool jumper.  His tie was a medium red with an interlocking blue ring pattern.  This time he’d worn a tweed jacket in a light brown color with elbow patches, just to dress up a little.

“You look marvelous,” Jackie gushed as she embraced him.  She pulled back slightly to look at his chest.

“What’s this,” she asked as she felt the little tie clip he was wearing.

“Oh, just something I found about a month ago and never wore,” he shrugged.  It was a small pink-gold tie clip with a single tiny miniature pink-gold rose attached.  Jackie smiled knowingly.

“Oi,” she suddenly started, waving her hand in front of her nose.  “You smell like that dreadful whiskey Pete drinks, mixed with aftershave!”

“Sorry,” he said with a contrite smile.

Jackie softened and gave him another tight hug.  The Doctor hugged her back and said quietly in her ear, “You’re a brilliant Mum, Jackie Tyler.  Have I ever told you that?”

Jackie pulled back a little, the look on her face saying it all.  Obviously, he hadn’t said it before, because her eyes began to fill with tears.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she choked out.  “Now stop it before I have to do my makeup again.”  She dabbed at her eyes before heading back out to the dining room.  “Dinner will be ready in 20 minutes, and Rose should be here any second,” she called over her shoulder.

A twinge of anxiety passed through the Doctor at Jackie’s announcement, just as Tony barreled into the family room.  He brushed past Jackie and ran full tilt to wrap himself around the Doctor’s leg.  “Doctor!!” he screeched in glee.

The Doctor picked Tony up and whirled him above his head in their familiar greeting.  “Tony, my lad!” he laughed.  Sliding the boy down to chest level, he gave him a tight hug as Tony wrapped his arms around his neck in a choking embrace.

“I was lookin’ for you to play video games with me, Doctor.  But Mum said you were takin’ a kip,” he said with a pout.

“I’m so sorry, Tony,” the Doctor told him with a slight frown.  “I was a bit knackered because I didn’t sleep too well last night.”

Tony’s face became a little more animated.  “Did you see the big lion?!?”

He was so shocked that he almost dropped the tyke.  “Li…lion, Tony?”

“You had to see him, Doctor,” Tony cried.  “He was _ginormous!”_ he said with his arms outspread above his head to demonstrate the size of the creature.

“Wh-where, Tony?” he stammered.  “Where did you see a lion?”

Tony frowned and seemed to be thinking.  “I’m not sure.  It was someplace weird.”

“Hullo,” came a voice from the doorway.

“Roooose!” screamed Tony as he wiggled to be put down.  The Doctor set him on his feet, and he ran to jump up into Rose’s arms.  Pete shot him a glance that said he didn’t miss the shocked look on the Doctor’s face, but he went to Rose to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Rose greeted her brother and step-dad while the Doctor tried to compose himself and his face enough to extend a proper greeting.

“Hullo, Rose,” he said when he finally found his voice.

“Hullo,” she responded simply, a cordial social smile on her face as she continued to hold Tony.

_Still Uomo senza nome,_ he thought.  _Man with no name._

Pete was surreptitiously sidling his way over to the Doctor, leaving Rose and Tony to chatter away.  The Doctor broke the silence first.

“Pete, I think I could use a tad more of that Octomore, if that’s alright.”  Pete nodded and walked with him back to the bar to get his drink.

“What was that about a lion, Doctor,” Pete asked quietly so that Rose couldn’t hear.

“I’m not totally sure,” he replied.  He hadn’t decided yet if it would be prudent to tell Pete and Jackie anything until he talked to Tony more.

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“It caught me by surprise, Pete.  Could be a complete coincidence, but I did have a dream during my kip that had a lion in it.  Guess I was just startled.”

Pete appeared mildly concerned, but only gave out a small grunt.

“If it’s ok with you, I’d like to ask Tony about the lion sometime later.  Just to see what he was really on about,” the Doctor carefully asked.

“That’s fine.  But if it’s not a complete coincidence, I expect you to tell me immediately,” Pete said in a serious tone.

“Absolutely, Pete.  You have my word,” the Doctor assured him.  He drained his glass, barely tasting the fine Scotch.

They both stopped talking as Rose approached them, and then faced the Doctor expectantly.

“May I speak with you for a second,” she asked, a neutral expression revealing none of her emotions.

“Of course,” he said.  Pete gave him a reassuring glance as he walked away after a nod to Rose.

She crossed her arms across her chest and looked the Doctor in the eye.

“I just wanted to thank you for the lovely flowers and vase.  And the note, of course,” she began.

“You’re quite welcome,” he responded automatically.  “I… I… It was the least that I could do,” he finally stammered.  He was blushing furiously, he knew.

“You’re blushing,” Rose said with a crooked smile.

“I… I know,” he said, feeling his face grow even hotter.  “I can’t seem to control it now.  Quite embarrassing, it is,” he admitted with a grin.  His face grew more serious.  “But Rose, I am really, truly sorry.  I don’t know what came over me and… .”

“It’s ok,” she interrupted.  “I said some things I shouldn’t have, so it’s partially my fault.  I forgive you.”  Her eyes dropped down to his tie clip, and seemed to be held there.

“Really?” he blurted, quite surprised by Rose’s response.  “Oh, thank you, Rose!” he gushed, wanting to grab her and give her a hug.  He quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets instead to keep them from getting him into trouble.

He noticed Rose’s cheeks take on a reddened appearance as she reached up to twist her necklace and avert her gaze to the right.

_Uh oh, now what,_ he wondered as he looked down.  In putting his hands into his pockets, his jumper rucked up in front to almost waist level.  Rose had inadvertently gotten a good view of his extremely tight denim trousers.

_Hah! She looked again,_ he thought in triumph.  Biting his lip to keep a silly smile from plastering itself on, he turned to Pete.

“Pete, shall we see if dinner is ready?  I do believe it’s time, and the smell of the lamb is driving me barmy,” he said.

“Not arguing with a Time Lord,” Pete said with a laugh.  The three of them retired to the dining room where the staff had just finished setting the table.

The Doctor gave up his usual position at the table to Rose, gallantly offering her the chair to the right of Pete.  Instead of taking the next seat to the right of Rose, he chose to sit in the third seat on the left, right next to Tony.

Jackie leaned forward to look at him, frowning.

“What the devil are you doin’ way down there, Doctor?” Jackie asked.

“Uhm… well… I thought we were going by age, Jackie.  Technically, Tony’s older than me, so… “

Jackie’s glare caught his eye and stopped his gob instantly.

“Sit over there by Rose,” she hissed with an imperious point to his new position.  “Didn’t you notice there was no place settin’ where you’re sittin’?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with a sloppy salute.  He got up, walked around the table and slid in next to Rose.  It occurred to him as he sat that he was feeling just a bit woozy.

_Oh, blimey,_ he thought.  _I think I lost control over alcohol metabolism with the meta-crisis.  Not good._ He made a mental note to watch his gob over dinner.  Now was not the time to have a Donna moment.

The kitchen staff started bringing in the steaming platters of food.  He was thrilled to see the broiled rack of lamb.  He did love his bit of lamb, although he abhorred mint sauce.  Thankfully, the mint sauce was in a saucière on the side.  The lamb was accompanied by little potatoes _(oh, love little potatoes)_ , glazed carrots _(meh),_ sautéed green beans with almond slivers _(pass)_ and oven-roasted Brussels sprouts _(are you kidding)._

One of the rituals surrounding the Tyler dining room table was that one had to sample a little of every dish as it was passed around.  Chattering merrily about current events, the family passed the dishes around as everyone served themselves from the platters and bowls.

The Doctor loaded up on lamb and potatoes, placed two slices of carrots on his plate and skillfully managed to maneuver one single string bean out of the bowl.  When the Brussels sprouts arrived, he used Time Lord slight of hand to appear to place a sprout on his plate as he chattered away, seemingly oblivious to the fact that no sprouts were actually transferred.  It did not go unnoticed.

“Doctor,” Jackie interrupted sweetly.  “It seems you’ve somehow missed the sprouts, dear heart.”

“Ate it already,” he said, the very poster child of innocence.

Jackie fixed him with an ominous stare, her eyes narrowed.  “Well, I thought I did,” he mumbled as he cracked under her gaze.  “I mean, didn’t I?  No?”

He sighed and picked the bowl back up to scoop a single sprout onto his plate.  Actually, it was only half a sprout, since they’d been neatly sliced in half before roasting.  The little green half, perfectly caramelized on one side, stared up at him as he eyed it suspiciously.  He could see Rose’s shoulders shaking in the periphery of his vision as she tried to stifle her giggles.

“Just try it,” Jackie urged.  “Roasting them caramelizes the sprouts and brings out their sweetness.  I’ll bet you’ve never tried them that way before.”  Tony was grinning and took a big bite of a sprout to demonstrate his mastery over the vegetable and issuing the Doctor a challenge at the same time.

“Aw, now aren’t you just the brave one,” he said to Tony in answer to his challenge.  “But see, I learned a trick from the Bad Wolf.  She could just wave her hand and things would disappear into thin air,” he said.  He heard Rose suck in a breath, but he didn’t respond.

“You can make things disappear,” asked Tony, suddenly very interested.

“Oh, yes… but I have to really, really, really want it to go away.  Like… really green vegetables.”

Dinner continued as they ate, with the Doctor spinning a fanciful tale about the Bad Wolf entity who once inhabited a beautiful princess named Jasmine.  He changed enough of the details and character names that Tony would think it was simply that - a fairy tale.  But he knew Rose would recognize many of the events and people.

The Doctor himself became a Frog Prince, who was in love with the beautiful Jasmine.  The TARDIS became a magnificent sentient space ship called the _Voyager_ , Jack was just a swashbuckling captain called the Captain, and Daleks became Evil Pepper Pots from the planet Scary.

When he got to the part of the story where Princess Jasmine took on the power of the _Voyager_ and brought the Captain back to life, making him immortal, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Rose.

_So, it appears she didn’t know,_ he thought.  He was almost sure Jack would have told her on the way back to the Sol system from the Medusa Cascade; but then again, they were pretty busy piloting the ship.  But it was important that she understand the events that led to his creation.  Bad Wolf was definitely a part of that.

He continued his story, vaguely noticing that Rose had stopped eating and was staring into space as he spoke.  Pete and Jackie were listening quietly as they ate, sometimes giving each other meaningful glances or watching Rose’s reaction.  When he got to the part where the Frog Prince took the Bad Wolf from Princess Jasmine with a kiss and died, Rose gasped.  She turned to look at him with wide eyes, but said nothing.

He finished his story with a flourish, explaining how the Frog Prince returned to life as a handsome humanoid Prince Charming.  He gave the Princess her human Prince Charming, sending them off in the _Voyager_ to happily travel the stars forever after.

“And that,” he told Tony, “is how I learned to make things disappear!”

“But your sprout is still on your plate, Doctor,” Tony said with a laugh.

“Weeelll… I guess I don’t want it to go away nearly enough,” he sighed.  “Guess I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”  He popped the dratted vegetable into his mouth and chewed only enough to swallow it without choking.

Rose was uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of dinner, saying little as they devoured dessert.  The Doctor couldn’t be more pleased with the dessert menu, because it was a honey-baked banana dessert dish served with vanilla ice-cream and chocolate sauce.  Jackie soaked up the praises he heaped on her for her exquisitely selected dinner menu.  He knew she chose the dessert just for him.

After dinner, they retired to the family room again to play a round of video games with Tony before he had to go to bed.  Pete shared more of his fine Scotch with the Doctor when he wasn’t playing with Tony, seemingly aware that the Doctor needed a little liquid courage.

Soon it was time to prepare Tony for his bedtime.  Jackie came to the Doctor and asked, quietly, “Are you two going to be alright while we get Tony ready for bed?”

He nodded.  “I think it’ll be fine, Jackie.  I promise I’ll behave myself,” he said with a smile.  She smiled her encouragement as she and Pete took Tony upstairs.

Rose sat on one of the couches, appearing to be lost in thought.  She looked up at the Doctor finally, her eyes sad and bewildered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she finally said.

“Excuse me,” he said quietly, trying very hard to keep a neutral expression on his face.  He had been both dreading and hoping she would ask.

“Why didn’t you tell me the whole story; how the Bad Wolf was really me?  That I’m the reason why your former self died?  That the reason Jack can’t die now is all because of me?”

Sticking his hands into his pockets again, he approached and sat down on the other end of the couch from Rose.

“Who are you really asking, Rose?” he asked gently.  “Are you asking _me,_ or are you asking someone who isn’t here right now and you somehow think I’m a proxy?”

“But you have all of his memories.  You would know,” she said, a bit leery of his response.

“I have all of _his_ memories, yes.  They’re _my_ memories, too.  But as I recall, he chose not to tell you.”

“So what else hasn’t he told me?” she asked.

He laughed a little hollowly.  “Oh, Rose.  Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said as he looked directly into her eyes.  “A lot, I’m afraid.”

“Then tell me.  I think I have a right to know.”

“How so?” he asked, still remaining calm.  “Rose, you don’t even acknowledge me, really, as a proper person.  You won’t even call me by my name.  You think he’s the proper Doctor and I’m someone who can just parrot back his memories like a recording.  That’s not who I am.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know,” he said sadly.  “I understand now.  Or at least, I understand better than I did a few days ago.  I don’t blame you for being confused, because I was.”

“But why can’t you just tell me,” Rose asked.  “I want to know.  I spent three years trying to get back to him, and he just dumped me here with you.  He loves me, I know he does.  Why?”

The Doctor drew a deep breath, and wrung his hands together as he leaned forward.  He wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“Rose, I can tell you everything.  I mean, _everything_.  And I want to tell you everything,” he said just a little anguished.  “But you need to be prepared to hear it and believe it.  I’m not sure you’re there yet.”

“Let me decide that,” she said a little testily.

“You forget.  I have free will, too.  I can choose not to tell you, just as he did.”

“Please, I’m begging you.  Tell me why he left me here.  If he really loved me, tell me why he would abandon me after everything I suffered to get back to him,” she pleaded.  “I just want to understand.”  Huge tears were threatening to spill from her eyes, gutting the Doctor.

He coughed, trying to compose himself.  “He did love you, more than you can guess,” he began.  “But he couldn’t bear the thought of how he would eventually lose you to time or danger.  As long as you’re here, you’ll always be alive and young to him.  He also knew that he could never give you what you needed.  He couldn’t give you a family, he couldn’t keep you safe, and he could never settle down because of his responsibilities as the Last Time Lord.  He could never promise you his forever, Rose.”

“I don’t care about that,” she cried.  “I knew that, and I wasn’t asking for that.”

“No, but he _did_ care.  It did matter to him.  And there was another thing, Rose.  Something you wouldn’t know because it happened after we lost you at the Battle of Canary Wharf,” he said in a tremulous voice.

“What?” she asked.

“He knew his destiny lay with someone else.  We met her at the Library in the 51 st Century.  It’s a large planet-sized library, and she was an archeologist who was sent there at the same time that Donna and I were there.  Her name is River Song.”

“What?” she whispered, eyes wide and wild at the revelation.

“She knew our name.  Or _real_ name.  The sacred Gallifreyan name that we can tell no one, except ritually.  So, I’m positive that he marries her at some point.  We don’t know exactly when, but we know she’s in his future.  It could be a year from now, or hundreds of years, but we can’t know when in his personal timeline it happens.  Not mine, because I’m here.  I’ll never see River again.  But he will.  And they will have children, of that much I am certain.”

Rose stared at him, completely in shock.  “I don’t believe you,” she said flatly.

“It’s true, Rose.  I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry to tell you that.”

“You’re lying!” she insisted, her voice beginning to rise.

“No, no… I would never lie to you about something like that, Rose.  I swear it’s true.  I can show you, if you like.”  He raised his hand to place his fingers at her temple, but she batted it away.

“Stay away from me,” she warned.  You ain’t gettin’ into my head!  I don’t believe you.”

Jumping up from the couch, she ran from the room.  He heard the front door slam as she left.

Sighing, he put his face in his hands and slumped.

“Tame the Wolf, eh?” he muttered to himself.  “That’s just wizard.  Fantastic.  Molto bene.”


	11. Hopelessly Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jackie and the Doctor do a wellness check on Rose at her flat.

 

Rose’s mad bolt from the Tyler mansion was followed closely by the squeal of tires in the driveway.  She made a dash for the gates, startling the guards, who barely got the gate open in time to prevent her from careening through them.

The Doctor was still sitting on the couch, head in hands, looking as dejected as a kicked puppy.  The phone rang twice, then stopped.  Someone upstairs must have picked it up, he surmised.  Within seconds, he heard a rush of feet coming down the stairway.

Jackie appeared in the doorway, looking quite put out.

“What happened, Doctor?” she asked, a little out of breath.  “Did you two row again?”

“No, not quite,” he sighed.  He scrubbed his face before wringing his hands together in misery, not wanting to meet her eyes.

“Then what?  I thought I heard the door slam.  Then the gate guard called Pete to say Rose left here in a hurry.”

“She wanted to know why he never told her about Bad Wolf and what happened on Satellite 5.  She wanted to know why he left her here, Jackie.  What was I supposed to do?  I told her the truth,” he said softly, looking, if it were possible, even more miserable.

“I see,” she said quietly.  She sat next to him on the couch and put her arm around his shoulders.  “Is that it?  You just told her about the Bad Wolf thing?”

He took a deep breath and finally met Jackie’s gaze.  “I told her about River Song.  Tried to be as gentle as I could, but she reacted… poorly… to the news.”

Jackie frowned.  “What do you mean by ‘poorly,’ exactly?”

“Oh, it went over like a solid lead zeppelin, Jackie,” he groaned.  “Accused me of lying to her.  I wanted to show her.  Telepathically, you know.  I could have shown her my memory just as it happened; let her into my mind to see the event exactly as I saw it.  But she would have none of it.”

“And that’s when she stormed out?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry, Jackie.  I’m complete rubbish at this.  Nothing I say to her is right.”

“It’s not you, sweetheart,” she reassured him.  “Let me give her a call and see if I can calm her down.  I didn’t expect she would take the news well, particularly the part about another woman.”

“So, once again I’ve managed to stick both feet into my big gob, then?” he said with a brittle laugh.

“She needed to hear it, Doctor.  She needs to know.  Lettin’ her go on thinkin’ he didn’t mean to leave her here will jus’ make it worse.  Stay right there while I call her flat,” she said as she picked up the phone on the end table.

#########################

The phone was ringing as Rose stomped into the flat.  Bending over the phone base, she took note of the CLID display and then walked away with a growl.  Tossing her purse onto the sofa, she threw herself down next to it and ran her fingers through her hair.  Her thoughts were almost incoherent, her emotions a maelstrom of feelings that she couldn’t put a finger on.  She drew her knees up into her chest and hugged herself tightly, rocking to and fro as a small, barely audible whimper started to make its way up from her chest, slowly rising into a crescendo.  

Once again, the phone began to ring insistently.  With a whining shriek, Rose threw herself across the room to the base on a small end-table.  Grasping the handset firmly in her hand, she snarled at it as if to force it into submission and silence, but the phone continued to ring.  “Leave me alone!” she shouted at the handset before slinging it with all her might into the opposite wall.  Paint chips flew across the living area like shrapnel, a small piece actually striking her in the face near an eye.  Panting as if she had run several miles, she never flinched.  It was as if she felt nothing, was incapable of any pain except the pain in her chest.  

“No,” she whispered, as she dropped limply to the floor and resumed her knees-to-chest position.  She rocked herself again, stopping occasionally to bump her head against the wall in frustrated agony.

Suddenly noticing the spray of rosebuds in its blue vase, she ran to snatch it up in a pique, ready to launch it against the window.  She moved twice to throw it by the vase, but aborted the swing each time.  Setting the flowers back onto the coffee table, she stared at it momentarily as if confused by her inability to shatter the glass into a million satisfying pieces.  Resuming her position against the wall, she drew her knees back up.  

Five minutes later, she buried her muffled howls of rage and sorrow into her lap and arms, rocking faster and harder than ever.  The tears, when they came, felt as if they’d been squeezed from stone and could bring her aching heart no relief.

#########################

“She’s not answerin’ the bloody phone,” muttered Jackie angrily.  “She should be home by now.  I’ll bet she’s sittin’ there all pissed off, lookin’ at the number and knowin’ it’s me!”

Concern started to creep across the Doctor’s face as he watched Jackie dial Rose’s number at least six times unsuccessfully.  “What if she didn’t get home, Jackie?” he asked worriedly.  “She left in quite a state.  She probably shouldn’t have driven herself home as emotional as she was.”

Jackie hit a speed dial number on the phone.  “Hello, this is Jackie Tyler.  I just need to know if my daughter, Rose, made it ok to her apartment.  I can’t seem to ring her up.”  She listened for a minute before nodding affirmatively to the Doctor.  “Ok, ta!  I’ll be there shortly.”

“She’s there,” Jackie assured the Doctor.  She’s jus’ not answerin’.”

“They actually told you?” he asked in surprise.  “Isn’t there some kind of rule against that?  Some kind of privacy policy?”

“We own the bleedin’ buildin’, so they’d better tell me!” Jackie said with a snort.  “We’re goin’ over there right now and make sure she’s ok.  And then I’m gonna knock some sense into her.  Come on… you can drive us.”

“Whoa, Jackie!” the Doctor started up in alarm.  “Should I go over there when she obviously doesn’t want to talk to me?  I don’t want to invade the sanctity of her home like that.  It wouldn’t be right.”

“That’s _exactly_ what’s wrong now,” she said as she fixed him with a look.  “The two of you can’t seem to talk except like cats and dogs, and that needs to end.  Couldn’t slide a sheet of carbon paper between the two of you before.  And you’re with me, not bustin’ into her flat on your own.  I have a key, an’ I’ll use it if I hafta.”  Striding purposefully half way up the stairs, she shouted up to Pete.  “Pete!  We’re goin’ over to Rose’s.  I’ll be back as soon as she’s sorted.”

Retrieving her purse from a table in the foyer, she grabbed the Doctor’s arm on the way to the door leading to the garage.  “Let’s go.  I’ll tell you how to get there,” she told him before he could protest.

It only took fifteen minutes to get to Rose’s flat, Jackie instructing the Doctor along the way to let her do the talking, which he had every intention of doing anyway.  Once there, apparently Jackie’s face was all it took to get egress into the parking garage and building.  They took the lift to Rose’s floor and Jackie walked right up to her door and started banging away at it.  Flinching, he looked up and down the hallway hoping that no one would open their doors to look at them.  After three demanding knocks and a shout to Rose, Jackie whipped out her key and let them in.

Rose looked up from her position on the floor as Jackie and the Doctor entered and walked around the sofa.  Her eyes were reddened, but at the moment were dry.  She didn’t seem surprised to see her Mum, but when she saw the Doctor a few steps behind Jackie, her face distorted into rage.  Leaping to her feet, she pointed to the Doctor and confronted Jackie.

“How dare you bring him into my flat!” she declared in outrage.

Jackie faced her daughter with arms crossed and eyes flashing a warning.  “If you’d answered your soddin’ phone when I called ya, neither of us would be here.”

Rose advanced on the Doctor, thunder in her eyes as she screeched at him.  “Get out!  Get out of my flat right now!  You have no right to be here.”  Jackie grasped her by the shoulders to stop her advance as the Doctor stepped backwards, slowly backing up toward the door.  He did not appear the least bit intimidated, which only infuriated Rose more.

“Stop it, Rose,” Jackie said to her as she shook her slightly.  “He’s here with me.  He drove me here and he’ll drive me back, and I _asked_ him to come.  We were both worried about you.”

“You could have left him in the car,” Rose said, turning her anger back to Jackie.

“Now listen here, missy,” Jackie started with fire in her eyes.

“No!” Rose shouted, stabbing Jackie repeatedly in the chest with a finger.  “You listen to _me._   He’s a connivin’ _liar._   You and Dad have taken him in an’ fallen for his crap… hook, line and sinker!  He’ll say anythin’ to try to turn us against the proper Doctor, an’ you’re too stupid to see it.”

Jackie’s face was growing increasingly red with each poke of Rose’s finger, and she suddenly sprang into action.  Grabbing Rose by the blouse, she swept her feet from under her in a perfect policeman’s defensive maneuver, swinging the startled Rose onto the couch with a plop.  The Doctor’s eyes widened as he moved as if to catch Rose, but then he brought himself up as he realized he was practically in the middle of a titanic war between mother and daughter.

“You don’t talk to me like that,” Jackie growled into Rose’s face.  “You don’t get t’talk to me like that.  I’m your mother and I brought you into this world, an’ I’ll do anythin’… anythin’ at all… for you.  But I will not let you talk to me in that tone of voice or call me stupid, d’ya hear me?”

Rose was slightly more subdued after being manhandled by her mother, but her eyes were still wild.  “But that’s it, Mum,” she said, not yet completely willing to back down.  “You didn’t bring me into this world.  This _isn’t_ my world!  I wasn’t born here and I wasn’t meant to be here.”

“Neither was he born here,” Jackie pointed out with her finger to the Doctor.  “Neither was I, but we make do.  And so will you.”

Rose averted her eyes from Jackie’s sharp gaze, tears starting to form again along the borders of her lashes but refusing to spill.

Jackie looked up to the Doctor, who was standing still and silent with his hands in his pockets.  There was no hiding the pain in his eyes.  “Tell her, Doctor,” she said quietly.  “Tell her why you are here.”

He swallowed hard, and then walked around to stand in front of the couch, but he couldn’t quite meet the fire in Rose’s eyes.  He stared as her feet, trying to muster up the courage to say what needed to be said without sounding like he’d gone completely spare.  He cleared his throat.

“When I was shot by the Dalek and almost regenerated, I heard you say that you didn’t want me to change,” he began.  “I chose to channel the rest of the regenerative energy into my old hand almost on impulse, because… because I thought you wouldn’t…”  He halted, suddenly very unsure of himself.

“Go on,” Jackie urged him gently.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t… want to be with me… if I regenerated.  I thought you couldn’t take another change of face and body so soon after the last regeneration.  So soon after getting back to me.  It’s not as if it was easy for you the first time you saw me change.  Maybe it was just too weird and alien, or I’d end up with a face and body you didn’t like so much.  Even worse, I could have ended up female.  But I didn’t have time to think, and I never questioned where the thought came from to throw the energy into the hand.  No one has ever done anything like that, as far as I know.  No one has ever had one of their own body parts sitting around waiting to be a receptacle, I guess.  I never really thought about it again until the actual Meta-crisis occurred.  I don’t think it was really my idea at all in hindsight.”  

He took another deep breath, wondering if she would accept any of his explanation, even though he knew she had been there to see it for herself.

“When we were on the Crucible and Donna got locked into the TARDIS, I just assumed the Daleks locked her in.  I don’t know why I thought that at the time, because the Daleks couldn’t have controlled the TARDIS from within.  Donna was bolted in from the inside.  The TARDIS herself locked her in, I know that now.  She was an active principle in events.  She was in control the entire time.  The TARDIS prompted me to put the regenerative energy into the hand to set up the event, and when she thought the time was right she created me from the hand and the leftover energy.  It was literally she who sparked the Meta-crisis so that I would be created.  I guess you could say I’m properly a Child of the TARDIS, not exactly a duplicate or clone.”

He finally glanced up and noticed that Rose was actually listening.  A look of cautious disbelief was on her face, but at least she was listening.  “Why would she do such a thing?” Rose challenged with a frown.  “Why create another Doctor when there was already one right there?”

He held his breath for a long time as he thought of how to say the next.  “My creation fulfilled the Ood prophesy of the DoctorDonna, and Dalek Caan’s prophesy of the three-fold man and the destruction of the Daleks.  And I was destined to come here, so that there’s a Doctor right here, on this world, in this universe, to protect it.”  

Rose let out an ugly laugh of mild derision.  “So what’s so special about this universe, then, that it deserves its own Doctor?  So it’s got zeppelins instead of planes, an’ it has a President instead of a Prime Minister.  So what?”

The Doctor smiled for the first time since entering the flat.  “You are, Rose.  You and your family are what’s special about this universe.”  He pulled his hand out of his pocket.  Within his palm was the piece of TARDIS coral he always kept there, never very far from his fingers or his thoughts.  It was warmer than could be accounted for from merely being in his pocket, with an almost imperceptible inner glow.  It cast off small sparkles as he turned it in the light.  He could feel the life within it, although it wasn’t quite sentient.  It gave off a faint telepathic vibration, like an intro note at the beginning of a song.

“It’s supposed to be the Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS, the Stuff of Legend… here in Pete’s World.  The Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf.  Earth’s Defenders.  That’s what he envisioned, anyway.  He said as much when he gave us this piece of coral, a gift of the TARDIS.  He never meant for either of us to return to the old universe, and neither did the TARDIS.  He saw our timelines, and he saw the potential for us here was so much greater than in the old universe.”

Rose seemed calmer now, less combative as she struggled to make sense of the seemingly disjointed bits of information she’d just been given.  “But why would the TARDIS want to send _me_ back here if she knew how hard I was tryin’ to get back to the Doctor?” she asked.  “What exactly have I got to do with any of it?  How’d she know I wouldn’t jus’ keep tryin’ to get back again?”

The Doctor absent-mindedly stroked the knobby coral before placing it carefully back into his pocket.  He knelt down next to Rose so that he was not towering over her as she sat on the sofa, trying not to be perceived as too intense, too desperate, too eager for her to believe him.  She had temporarily paused her attacks, her flights of denial, to provisionally entertain his ideas.  He couldn’t risk raising her almost impenetrable defenses with the wrong combination of words.

“Rose,” he breathed, “you are far more special than you believe.  No one can make you want to be a part of this.  It’s your choice.  But when you looked into the Heart of the TARDIS and became the Bad Wolf, I believe you formed a special bond with the TARDIS.  In many respects, it was a closer bond than anything I’ve ever had with her.  Together, the two of you were a more powerful being than anything I could ever be, and she protected you.  The Vortex energy, the same energy that you held within yourself long enough to return to me on the Game Station, killed me within seconds.  The TARDIS is a creature of Time and Space.  She’s not a machine, but a powerful sentient being in her own right.  It has been my privilege to travel with her for over 700 years, but her thoughts were frequently unfathomable even to me.  If anyone has a hope of deciphering the motivations of the TARDIS, it would probably be you.  You’re brilliant, Rose Tyler, and you always have been.  You will figure it out for yourself… eventually.”

Rising slowly to his feet, he backed away and walked toward the door of the flat.  He had glimpsed Rose’s timelines as he talked, and they were bending, twisting, splintering and weaving their way into a kaleidoscopic and dizzying warp and woof.  Something within her had changed.

_Better to have more potential timelines than less_ , he thought.  _Better quit while you’re ahead._   “I’ll wait for you in the hallway, Jackie,” he said quietly with a nod.

Jackie and Rose watched the Doctor as he left, waiting for the door latch to click.

Rose seemed lost in thought, picking at a loose string on her sleeve as Jackie watched her.  “I’m sorry, Mum,” she finally said.  “I’m findin’ it difficult to believe a word he says to me.”

“You can’t keep punishin’ him for tellin’ the truth, you know.  Just ‘cause you’re in denial don’t make him a liar.”  

“He told me that the Doctor found another woman, Mum!  He says that he’s destined to be with her.  I’m jus’ not buyin’ it,” Rose spat.

“Yeah, but it explains a lot, now don’t it?” Jackie added.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember what happened at Canary Wharf, Rose.  He tried to send you here with me and Pete, even then.  He was tryin’ to tell you something years ago, but you weren’t properly payin’ attention.  He didn’t want to hurt your feelings any more than he already was by sendin’ you here to be with your family.”

“Didn’t stop this one from tryin’ to hurt my feelings tonight.  Came right out and said it; married, kids and all.  Even said she knew his proper name.  I didn’t even know he had one.  He never told me he had any name besides the Doctor.”

“He didn’t want to tell you about the other woman, sweetheart.  He didn’t want to hurt you like that.  I was the one who told him to do it,” Jackie broke to her gently.  “I told him that you needed to know.  You need to know that the other Doctor has moved on.  He knew you weren’t gonna be a part of his life at some point.  He wanted you to have what he couldn’t give you, and he wanted you to have your family with you so you wouldn’t be as lonely as him.  Is that really so bad?”

The tears dammed up behind Rose’s eyes suddenly swelled and over-spilled their banks as choking sobs erupted from her.  Jackie leaned forward to embrace her.

“How could he move on without me, Mum?  What did I do wrong?  Who is this River Song archeologist cow who just swanned off with him like I was trash?  I thought he loved me.”

“He did love you, Rose.  That much I know.”

“How, Mum?  How could he love me and jus’ leave and not say goodbye?”

“You didn’t see his face when he left,” Jackie said as she drew back to look Rose in the eye.  “He looked like a man who’d jus’ had his heart ripped right out.”

“When?”

“You couldn’t see his face ‘cause you were too busy snoggin’ this Doctor’s face off,” Jackie said with a nod toward the door.  “But I was lookin’ right at him, and I can tell you I have never seen a man more devastated without cryin’ like a baby.  He couldn’t have said goodbye if his life depended on it.”

“Oh, no…,” Rose said, horrified.  “He told me that I’d broken the Doctor’s hearts when I kissed him.  That’s what he told me Friday night.”

“If the old Doctor loved you anything like this one does, his hearts were already broken.  It was jus’ the final blow.  Why’d you do that, anyway?  Why’d you kiss him if you didn’t want him?”

Rose stared at her mother, gaping silently, but no words ever came forth.

“That’s what I thought,” Jackie said with barely veiled disapproval.  “You know, Rose, you’re a bit old to be playin’ a man’s heart strings like that.  You hurt both of ‘em.  This Doctor is wonderin’ what he did wrong, ‘cause you kissed him on the beach like he needed CPR, then you rejected him.  An’ you wonder why he’s confused?  He’s got all the same feelings for you that the old Doctor did, but almost none of the hang-ups.  He can’t help what he feels.  Your playin’ him was jus’ cruel.”

“But Mum, I can’t help it if I still love the original Doctor.”

“So, what if the old Doctor were to come back and say he wanted to settle down with you, start a family, an’ go for spins in the TARDIS for family vacations?  Wouldya say ‘no’ to that?”

“I dunno, Mum.  I’d probably be ok with that, although I never asked for anythin’ like that.”

“Well, that’s what you got now, Rose,” Jackie said sharply.  “You’re jus’ bein’ thick an’ not acceptin’ it as the gift it was intended to be.  The other one isn’t goin’ to be alone like you thought, so no point in worryin’ about him any longer.  But it’s you who’s leavin’ him behind this time, not the other way around. One of these days he’s gonna give up on you, an’ yet some other educated cow with fancy credentials is gonna swan off with this one.”

Rose bit off a retort, choosing to stare down at her hands instead.

“It’s fairly late now, so I’m goin’ home, sweetheart.  Next time you go stormin’ off from my house, answer the blinkin’ phone when I call, ok?”  Hugging Rose goodbye, she walked outside to find the Doctor leaning against the wall with hands in pockets, staring staunchly at his feet as if there was something interesting crawling over his Converses.  She hauled him up by one arm and walked with him to the lift without a word.

Seven minutes into their drive home, Jackie finally broke the silence.

“I think it’s time, Doctor.”

A weary sigh filled the small cabin of the hybrid.  “Time for what, Jackie?”

“Time to start movin’ on with your life.  It’s time you started doin’ what you need to do as if Rose wasn’t a part of it.”  There was silence, followed by a long sniff as the Doctor gripped the wheel so tightly she could see the whiteness of his knuckles reflected from the streetlamps.  She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know you love her, an’ I know you ain’t givin’ up on her.  No one will ever ask you to do that, sweetheart.  But it simply ain’t fair for you to wait on her to change her mind.  Start growin’ that TARDIS thing, for one.”

“That’ll take five years, Jackie.  Slightly less if I can figure out a way to accelerate the process more than Donna instructed.  But we’re still talking about years,” he said dejectedly.

“Then you’re three months behind, yeah?  What’dya need to do with it?  Do you put it in some water in a goldfish bowl, like Magic Crystals?”

The Doctor couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image, in spite of his deep-seated gloom.  “Something like that,” he said.  “It will take some technology and facilities that I could probably find at Torchwood.  It’s not exactly a project I can shove under my bed.  Another reason, I guess, to take Pete up on his offer of a job.”

“Pete’ll help you, I’m sure of it.  Just ask him.  An’ it would do you some good to exercise that big brain of yours on something other than tryin’ to get Rose to break out of her obsession.  Let her see you through others’ eyes.  Not jus’ her Mum’s.  What do I know?”

He reached up and squeezed Jackie’s hand.  “A lot.  You managed to slap a little sense into a 900 year-old alien, didn’t you?”

She grinned.  “That’s right.  Now keep both those hands on the wheel,” she admonished him jokingly.

The Doctor’s saturnine mood grew more somber once he arrived home.  Stripping his clothes off down to his underwear, he slid into the bed without putting on his pyjamas.

“I don’t want to move on,” he whispered to no one at all.  For the second time in his lives, his soul knew inertia.  He couldn’t run; didn’t want to run.  It was roots he needed and wanted; something to hold onto, something to anchor him when the winds of change buffeted him.  He felt as if a restrictive force was squeezing his chest, leaving little room for his heart to pump.  

_So this is what it’s like to be a proper human.  At least John Smith had Joan Redfern, the lucky sod._

Pulling one of the pillows from beneath his head, he clutched it fiercely within his arms and started rocking himself.  The loneliness, hurt and rejection he’d felt descending, after Rose left the mansion in a huff, seemed to envelope and suffocate him again.  Tears prickled at the back of his eyes, but he choked them into submission with another long and loud sniff.  He refused to let them fall.  He would not give in to them.  Not tonight.

He rocked himself until he fell into a fitful sleep filled with the howl of a lone wolf drifting on the wind.


	12. Questions of My Childhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor reflects on his initiation to the Academy and decides to take a long run in the woods.

 

He awoke on Tuesday morning to the fading image of the Untempered Schism and its cacophony of strangely coherent sounds.  Panting slightly, he could still remember the terror and wonder of the moment so very, very long ago.  

It was still well before dawn, but a restlessness had come over him.  He pulled on a dark blue tracksuit from the closet and padded barefoot downstairs before sliding into his plimsolls.  Keying in his security code, he slipped out one of the back doors of the mansion and started walking toward the stand of trees to the back of the property.  A waning gibbous moon cast enough light for the rods of his sensitive Time Lord retinas to easily locate the footpath leading into the woods, so he set off at a fast jog through the dewy grass.  Once on the path, he stretched into a ground-eating stride that most humans would never be able to match.

He ran swiftly down the path, listening only to the slap of his feet against the well-worn path, his breath as he gulped the crisp morning air and the occasional twitter of a songbird.  He’d always loved running, even more so after his encounter with the Untempered Schism as an 8 year-old Academy initiate.  This kinetic, frenetic movement was a theme that ran throughout his long life, and none of his bodies was more well-suited to the activity than this one.  His long legs and lean torso seemed to move through the air like a sharply-honed knife, his stride a graceful long lope that conveyed a sensuous power, efficiency, and freedom of movement.  The artificial wind driven around him pulled at his tracksuit, urging him on at even a faster pace as his thoughts turned back to the Schism.

He had been a frightened and lonely child when he first looked into the portal of the Untempered Schism.  Only days after being taken from his only home and family, he’d been ushered to a dormitory with a dozen strangers and distant cousins from other Houses across the planet.  His House, one of the oldest and most esteemed on Gallifrey, had provided the Prydon Academy with some of its most prestigious graduates, he was informed the day before his departure.

“Make sure,” his father had told him, “that you aspire to be within the ranks of the noteworthy, rather than the notorious.”  Such pronouncements were characteristic of his father, who was a typical emotionally distant Time Lord parent of Gallifrey.  He had kept his distance in proximity, as well, so the Doctor had never properly got to know him.  His father’s _Curriculum Vitae_ were far more familiar.  

To be truthful, he had avoided crossing his Time Lord parent’s path.  Most of their interactions had been far from pleasant, and usually centered around his rampant emotionalism and rebellious nature.  But he had shown he possessed a stellar mind and thirst for knowledge, so he had been quickly accepted into the Academy as an initiate.  It didn’t hurt that he had been loomed from one of the greatest Houses, so certain “quirks” were graciously ignored.

No one told him, as they dressed formally for the affair, of what was to come.  He had stepped before the massive gilded ring and stood over the Seal of Rassilon, only to face one of the most overwhelming sights and sounds he would ever encounter.  

He saw it all, in an instant:  _All that is, all that was, all that ever could be._   Life, Death, Wars, Fixed Points in Time that shone brighter than quasars; the sights and sounds of the Universe washed over him and burned deep impressions into his young brain.  Names sprang forward that frightened him, because he knew they could be his.  Horrible, frightening names that made no sense to him but filled him with dread, they sprang forward and then receded.  He could become one of the greatest Time Lords of all Time, or he could become the Instrument of Destruction of the entire Time Lord race.  

Which was it?  Savior or Destroyer?  Darkness or Light?  All of the permutations in-between those states confused him.  With everything existing in one moment, he could not tell what _would be_ from what _could be_.  He would never know, until the time arrived for the moment to exist.

And so he had run.  And he never stopped.  He fled into academic studies.  He rebelled against and fled the society that created him.  He stole an ancient and dilapidated TARDIS and fled the planet of his birth.  He ran from star to star, from danger to more danger, from companion to companion, from enemies, from friends and lovers, from the Time War, from himself.

And still he ran as the first glimpses of the rising sun lit the path he was on.  Veering sharply to the right, he ran down a narrow deer path he’d spotted.  It was never his way to stay on the tried and true.  He had to take the one less traveled by.  Brambles, low-hanging tree branches and bushes whipped his tall frame, slowing him only a little.  The sting of their kisses and slaps reminded him that he was alive.  He could still feel.

He came to a rise in the path, and the sound of an engine told him it was a road leading to the mansion.  Putting on a burst of speed, he pounded up the hill and flashed across the road, clearing it just in time to hear the angry blast of a lorry at his heels.  He laughed as he ran, brimming with _joie de vivre,_ wondering how far the path would take him.  He knew he was still within the Tyler compound since he hadn’t encountered a fence, so he continued on, occasionally clearing a branch or tree trunk along the way.

The woods gave way to a clearing of tall grass where the path appeared to fade away.  Beginning to tire, he decided to make a wide circle and go back the way he came.  His time sense told him he’d been running a good half-hour, so he should be back to the mansion a little before breakfast.  No one should have noticed he was missing.  

The road was clear this time when he crossed, but the charge up the hill seemed to take a bit more out of him than before.  _Dratted single cardiovascular system,_ he whinged to himself as he slid down the slope on the other side.  By the time he reached the end of the footpath and could see the back of the mansion again, he was truly winded and gasping for breath.  He slowed to an easy jog and made it to the back door before stopping to brush the loose leaves and sticks from his hair.

Keying in his security code, he stumbled into the house and headed for the kitchen to get a drink, only to barge into Jackie at the kitchen door.  Her eyes grew large at the sight of a disheveled Doctor appearing in the kitchen, wheezing like a bellows and grinning like a cat that had just caught the canary.

“What in blazes jus’ happened to you?” she asked as she hurried to put her cup of tea on the counter.

“Went runnin’,” he gasped.

“Runnin’?  But what happened to your face?  You run into a buzz saw or somethin’?”

“Eh?” he asked with a grimace.  He reached up to feel the area on his face that Jackie’s eyes seemed to be focused on, and pulled his fingers away to see a few spots of drying blood.

“Sit down,” she ordered as she grabbed a tea towel from the cupboard and then wet it.  Grasping the seated Time Lord none too gently by the hair, she tilted his head back and started cleaning him up.  He hissed in pain as she started dabbing at one particularly deep scratch on his cheek, squirming and whining a bit when he realized he was in a grip of steel he couldn’t easily escape.

“Ow, oow?” he whined when she found another scratch on his neck.

“Oh stop it,” Jackie said in exasperation.  “I could get the alcohol, you know.  Then you’d have somethin’ to whine about.  Why didn’t you stay on the path?”

“Saw an interestin’ deer path and decided to follow it.”

“I can tell,” she said drily, looking down at the bottoms of his tracksuit, which were covered in burrs of various types.  Finally satisfied, she gave his wild hair a couple of swipes before she stepped back.  “Well, I can fix you breakfast since you’re here already.”

“No need,” he said, relieved that he could finally move his head.  “I’ll just toast a bagel or something, thanks.  I’m going in with Pete to Torchwood this morning.  No time for a full breakfast.”

“Hmmm,” she said as she turned to slice a sesame bagel she retrieved from the fridge.  Dropping it into the toaster, she took cream cheese and a jar of marmalade from the refrigerator for the Doctor before picking up her tea to head back upstairs.  “Well, I’ll see you in a bit, then.  I made a pot of tea, so help yourself.  Toss that tracksuit in the bin, though.  It’s done for.”

Washing his hands, the Doctor turned to get the bagel slices as they popped up from the toaster.  He put a thick schmear of cream cheese and marmalade over each slice, before pouring a huge mug of tea.  Four heaping teaspoons of sugar and milk later, he sat at the island and munched on his breakfast, feeling better than he had in a very long time.

That is, until a very irate Gladys chased him out of the kitchen so that she could begin the family’s breakfast.  Put out, he carried his bagel and tea upstairs to shower and dress, this time opting to wear a suit for the day.  He decided to go with a pair of plain brown trousers, no pinstripes, and a matching sport coat.  

Pinstripes, he thought, might be a little confusing should he run into anyone he knew.  There were few Torchwood survivors in Pete’s World who knew his face, as far as he remembered, but he didn’t want to take any chances of being immediately mistaken for the other Time Lord.  It might take too much explanation, and he wasn’t sure Pete had given his people any.

There was not much to be done about the scratches on his cheeks and neck.  The one on his neck stretched up beyond the collar of his oxford to his left ear, but at least it had stopped bleeding.  He stuffed a notepad, in which he’d jotted some notes the day before about possible future projects, and a pen into his pocket.  After a last adjustment to his hair, he went downstairs to meet with Pete, who should be finishing breakfast.

The drive to Torchwood was a mere twenty minutes or so, depending on traffic.  They’d taken Pete’s auto, a black Mercedes SUV, and Pete filled the Doctor in on a few of the security protocols he was expected to adhere to while there.  As they chatted, the Doctor felt a twinge of guilt as he realized he really didn’t spend nearly enough time with Pete.

In spite of being a multi-millionaire many times over, Pete was more like a regular bloke in many respects.  Although he was politically savvy, Pete seldom brought his work home with him except for the occasional Vitex or Torchwood party he was expected to host.  He had been quietly supportive, but never pried into the Doctor’s personal feelings or life.   Over the months the Doctor had learned to appreciate his quiet intelligence and staunch devotion to his small family, which he had extended to the Doctor.  Rose had certainly accepted him as her “Dad” over time, and he had quickly assuaged many of the Doctor’s doubts about the alternate Torchwood Institute.  Reformation of the old regime had taken a few years, but the cultural changes he brought made a huge difference between it and the Torchwood more familiar to the Doctor.

Their first stop, after clearing security, was Pete’s office.  It wasn’t particularly large or imposing, and it was decorated mostly in dark woods that gave a warm and welcoming ambiance to the space.  His desk was tidy, but not overly so.  A large blotter desk calendar dominated the surface with tonnes of little scribbly notes filling almost each and every date square.  He was obviously a very busy man, if the notes were an indicator.

Waving the Doctor over to a chair next to his desk, Pete pressed a big button on his phone to let his executive assistant know he was ready for his first appointment.

“Uhm, do I need to go?” the Doctor asked, somewhat surprised that Pete hadn’t mentioned a meeting he needed to attend.

Pete’s eyes twinkled as he waved the Doctor back to his chair.  “Nope,” he said as the door opened.

“’Ello, Doctor,” said a young sandy-haired man as he walked through the door.  The boyish face of Jake Simmonds broke into a big smile as he caught his eye.

“Jake!  Jake Simmonds!” yelped the Doctor in surprise as he leapt to his feet to pump the young man’s hand.  “I didn’t expect to see you here.  Aren’t you still working in the field with the Preachers?”

“Aye, that I am,” he responded.  “Pete ‘ere tol’ me you were comin’ an’ asked me to come int’a the office to help with the tour.”  His Geordie brogue was welcome to the Time Lord’s ears, given that his last regeneration sounded distinctly Northern.

“Thought you’d appreciate a familiar face, Doctor,” Pete said with a big smile.

“Never thought I’d get the opportunity to see you again,” Jake said.

The Doctor’s face fell for a second.  He looked to Pete for a second as Pete shook his head.  “Oh, no.  Don’t worry,” Pete said.  “Jake knows, Doctor.  He’s one of the very few operatives in Torchwood who know who you are, or know that there are two of you.”

“Kinda amazin’, really,” said Jake.  “Couldn’t tell ya apart to save me life.  You look exactly like I remember.”

“Won’t be able to say that in about twenty years, though, Jakie,” the Doctor said with a grin.  “I’ll probably look more like your Dad!”

Jake shook his head.  “It ain’t aall that bad bein’ human, Doctor.  You’ll get the hang of it,” Jake chuckled.  “Now, what happened to your face, though?  Get into a cat fight?”

“You have no idea, Jake!” the Doctor said with a giggle, remembering Sunday night’s visit to Rose’s flat.  “But this was from running like a fool through the woods this morning.  Had to get the tickle out of my feet.”

Pete laughed and pointed to the door.  “Shall we take the tour, gentlemen?”

The Doctor felt as if he was passing not just through a doorway, but through a threshold in Time, and he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of delight.  A new life, a new adventure was beginning; one that he had never hoped to have in his previous lives.  He could only hope it wasn’t going to be rubbish.

 


	13. On the Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor (Ten II) gets a tour of the Torchwood One facilities. He meets a strange lady astrophysicist and astrocartographer who gives him quite a shock.

 

There was something very surreal to the Doctor about walking the hallways of the alternate universe Torchwood.  With a few exceptions, Torchwood One in Pete’s World was laid out quite similarly to the Torchwood One in the old universe.  That is, when the old Torchwood One existed, it had been similar.  It had been closed down after the Battle of Canary Wharf while the Torchwood One of Pete’s World thrived.

Starting their tour at the lowest level of the facility, Pete took the Doctor and Jake first to the primary data center at the heart of Torchwood, on the third level below ground.  They had to pass through four security checkpoints along the way, the fourth in which the Doctor managed to set off an alarm when he passed through a portal.

“Uhm, Doctor?” queried Pete.  “Got something electronic in your pocket, by any chance?”

An innocent look of puzzlement on his face, the Doctor gingerly reached into his pocket and pulled out a sonic screwdriver.  “It’s just a sonic screwdriver,” he pouted, obviously hoping it wouldn’t be taken from him.

“Ah, and it incorporates alien tech, no doubt,” noted Pete with a crooked smile.  “Let’s leave that here for the moment, please.  We don’t allow anything within the area that could interfere with the sophisticated electronics in the data center.  That’s why they took your mobile, which I noticed you gave up voluntarily without a fuss.”

Hugging the device to his chest, the Doctor cradled it as if he were protecting his first born.  “This goes wherever I go,” he said stubbornly.  “No lack of mobiles on this planet, now is there?  My screwdriver is only one of two like it in this universe, and I can’t risk it going missing.”

“You have a point, but I can promise you that you’ll get it back, untouched and unharmed, as soon as we leave the data center, Doctor,” Pete tried to reassure him.

Eyes narrowed, the Doctor almost made a retort about how he couldn’t trust Torchwood with anything incorporating alien technology.  He thought better of it and reluctantly handed the screwdriver over to Pete, who smiled appreciably before giving it to the waiting security personnel.

“No one is to touch this, scan it, tamper with it, or remove it from the area or they’ll answer to me,” Pete pointedly told the guards.  “Understood?”

“Aye, sir,” the three guards answered solemnly.  

“Satisfied?” he asked the Doctor.

“No,” he answered truthfully.  “But I trust you, Pete.”  He gave Pete a look that clearly stated he was uncomfortable with the situation, but was relying on Pete to keep his word that the sonic screwdriver was safe.

Pete gave him a nod and led them into an area leading to multiple doors with card reader security pads.  Passing his Torchwood ID badge over one of the readers and keying in an eight-digit security PIN, Pete let them into one of the doors.  The Doctor couldn’t stop the hitch in his breath when he stepped through the door.

Rows upon rows of server racks extended beyond the curvature of the room into a dizzying landscape of blinking lights, wiring and cable.  A blast of cold air blew down each row, keeping the contents of the racks at optimal temperature.  The ceiling was a network of steel wire racks holding bundles of networking cable hanging like huge umbilical cords attached to each server rack below.  Banks of cabinets composed several of the rows, with the name CRAY© clearly visible vertically down the cabinet ends. 

Whistling, the Doctor was clearly floored by what he saw.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen large data centers before, and certainly far less primitive ones, but he’d never anticipated a twenty-first Century Torchwood to have a set-up quite like this.

“This is the primary data center of three within Torchwood,” said Pete.  “The other two are in Torchwood Three in Cardiff and Torchwood Two in Glasgow.  Synchronization between all three data centers give us full redundancy and resiliency.  We could lose two data centers and still operate at peak efficiency.”

“Impressive,” he said quietly to Pete, who smiled proudly.  “Now I know why you took my sonic screwdriver away.  Although… I could easily increase the efficiency of the processors and RAM by…”

“And _that’s_ why I took your sonic away,” interrupted Pete with a laugh.

Jake chucked, as well.  “Always tinkerin’, eh?  What else can ya do with your thingie?”

Hesitating a bit, the Doctor was apparently weighing out several inappropriate snappy answers when Pete started to guffaw.

“Don’t think he’s had much opportunity to use it yet, Jake.  Give him a little time.  I’m sure he’ll think of something!”  Deciding that now would be a good time to show the Doctor a few of the laboratories, Pete waved the men on to the next stop.  

The sonic screwdriver was retrieved and verified as unmolested before being safely ensconced back into a visibly relieved Doctor’s pocket.  They took a lift to the first level below ground where many of the Torchwood laboratories were located.  Pete couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

“So, Doctor,” he asked casually, “did you, by chance, nick the sonic screwdriver from the other Doctor?  Doesn’t seem like it’s something he’d just leave lying around.  And you really didn’t have much on you when you arrived.”

“Oi, Pete, I’m wounded!” exclaimed the Doctor.  “Of course, I didn’t nick anything from the other.  The TARDIS made two sonic screwdrivers just for me before I left.  Should always have a spare, you know.  Oh, and some parts for the new TARDIS.”  Looking a tiny bit guilty, he added, “…and perhaps a few other tchotchkes that, you know, he probably wouldn’t miss.  Portable Artron energy meter, timey-wimey detector, a couple of really cool yo-yo’s, wind-up mouse… stuff like that.”

“Where’d you hide _that much stuff_?” Pete asked with an incredulous expression on his face.

“Trans-dimensional pockets in the suit trousers I was wearing!” he grinned.  “Oh, and in the coat, too.  Should probably empty those out… but I’ll need a bigger closet.  Does Jackie really need that many shoes?”

Rolling his eyes, Pete opened the door to one of the research laboratories.  “Have I ever got someone for you to meet,” he sighed.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” chuckled Jake.

“No,” Pete admitted as he scanned the floor.  Several open laboratory rooms with equipment ran along the walls of a large open area with pods of consoles, not unlike a NASA control room.  His eye landed on a small owlish man with wire-rimmed round glasses who sat at an end console with five monitors, some of which were perched rather precariously.  He appeared to be early 40-ish in age and was wearing a white lab coat.  “Ah, there he is,” Pete muttered as he escorted the pair over.

“Hello, Dr. Taylor,” Pete said to the man, who barely looked up until he heard Pete’s voice.  The man leapt to his feet, almost knocking one of the monitors over onto the floor.  He rescued the monitor in time, only to knock his paper cup of tea over his desk full of papers.

“Oh, Mr. Tyler!  I’m so very sorry, I didn’t notice you coming in!” he yelped, a Welsh lilt apparent in his voice.

“Relax, Malcolm.  I’d like you to meet Dr. John Smith, a prospective Torchwood employee,” Pete said in introduction.  “Dr. Smith, this is Dr. Malcolm Taylor.  He’s with us on TDY assignment from UNIT.  Dr. Taylor is currently leading our Rift Energy Assessment project, analyzing data we’re getting in from Torchwood Three in Cardiff.”  He nodded to Jake.  “I believe you know Mr. Simmonds.”

Dr. Taylor nodded to Jake and shoved his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.  “A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Smith,” the nerdy little man said meekly, his professorial looks reminding the Doctor of Mr. Peabody from _Rocky and Bullwinkle_.

Whipping out a pair of horn-rimmed reading spectacles from his coat pocket, the Doctor squinted at several of Malcolm Taylor’s monitors, muttering softly to himself.  “Quite an interesting set-up you have here, Dr. Taylor,” he stated, not noticing Malcolm’s growing alarm.

“It’s ok,” Pete reassured Malcolm, placing a hand on his shoulder.  “Dr. Smith is a notable scientist with extensive experience in xeno-technology.  He’s completely trustworthy, or I would never have brought him here with me.  You may speak freely of your project with him.”

Jake gave a polite cough as Malcolm’s expression of alarm changed rapidly to one of excitement.  Pete caught on quickly.  “Uhm, perhaps over lunch, Malcolm?” he added.

“Lunch?” Malcolm asked, astonished.  No one ever asked him to lunch.  The crumbs in his keyboards and coffee stains on his desktop were ample evidence of his usual pattern of eating at his console.  His face broke into a wide smile.  “Oh, that would be grand!” he gushed.  “In the cafeteria?”

“Noon,” Pete confirmed.  “Dr. Smith should be suffering from sensory overload by then and ready for a break.”  He frowned as he scanned the other consoles.  “Where’s Hal?” he asked.

“Oh, Dr. Forbin went upstairs to the office for a meeting,” Malcolm told him.  “Should be back in about thirty minutes.”

“Dr. Hal Forbin is our chief astrophysicist and astrocartographer,” Pete said, turning to the Doctor.  “I’ll introduce you later.  Shall we go upstairs to some of the offices?”

They took their leave of Malcolm and got back on the lift to continue their tour.

“Pete, I couldn’t help but notice we skipped level B2.  Anything interesting there?” the Doctor asked.

“Storage and archives,” Pete said as he stared at the lift doors.  “You’ll get to see plenty of that if you decide to join us.  It’s a restricted area and requires the highest security access levels.”  His tone implied that he wasn’t willing to reveal the contents of Level B2 without a firm commitment from the Doctor.  Jake just smiled knowingly as the Doctor hummed.  Pete was an astute businessman and knew how to set the hook, he thought.  

It was obvious from the look in his eye that the Doctor was itching to use his sonic to access and explore the area.  “Don’t even think about it, Doctor,” Pete warned him without a trace of humor in his voice.  “I will take the bloody screwdriver away and you _won’t_ be getting it back if you ever use it to bypass any of our security systems, understood?”

Guiltily, the Doctor feigned his most innocent wide-eyed look.  “Wouldn’t _dream_ of it, Pete!” “Besides,” he said as he looked down at his feet, “you’re going to give me keycard access to that floor anyway, right?”

“If you behave,” he said as they stepped off the lift to the fifth floor.

The fifth above-ground floor consisted almost entirely of offices.  There were keycard readers next to each of the doors for security, but the front of each office was encased in a type of Plexiglas.  Quite a few of the personnel within the offices were occupied with meetings of some sort, either face-to-face, teleconference, or web-conference.  Occasionally, someone would wave to Pete as they passed by.  Even more people would rush out to clasp Jake by the hand or give him a tight hug.

“This is the floor for the Field Operations leaders,” Pete explained to the Doctor as Jake got side-tracked for the fifth time.  “More than a few of them have worked with Jake in the past.  He’s quite well thought of, as you can see.”

“So if divisions are separated by floor, on which floor are the researchers’ offices?” asked the Doctor.

“Next two floors,” Pete answered, pointing up.

They passed several darkened offices where no one sat, some clearly unoccupied and some locked and lights dimmed where the occupant wasn’t in that morning.  One in particular caught the Doctor’s eye because a rather familiar object sat on the corner of its desk:  On the right side of the desk sat a replica of an Atraxi ship about six inches in circumference. 

“Blimey, where did they get that?” blurted the Doctor as he plastered himself to the Plexiglas trying to get a better look.  Pete was completely quiet, so he backed up to take a look at the name plaque next to the keypad.

_Rose M. Tyler, Mobile Response Senior Leader_

_Special Investigations Unit (SIU)_

He froze in place, staring at the nameplate as if he couldn’t decipher the wording on it, mouth moving as if to say something.  “That… that… that’s an Atraxi police cruiser,” he finally stammered out.

“Wandered through the Rift about a year ago,” Jake said.  “Ya know about ‘em?”

“Met ‘em once,” muttered the Doctor.  “Rather curt group, they are.  You know they could incinerate the entire planet with one ship, right?”

“They told us,” said Pete rather dryly.

“So what happened?  Was there just the one?”

“Just the one,” nodded Pete.  “Rose faced them down and convinced them to go back without much incident.  Apparently, they were looking for someone named ‘Prisoner Zero’ and took a wrong turn.”

The Doctor smiled gently, obvious pride shining in his eyes.  “Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth.  Only she would go out and face down a flying giant eyeball threatening to burn your planet to a cinder.”

“Aye,” laughed Jake.  “Holdin’ a bad-arse Preacher gun.”

“Awwww, Jakie!  You had to go and ruin a fantastic mental image, hadn’t you?” frowned the Doctor.  “Where is she, by the way?” he asked as he turned to Pete.

“Sent her to Torchwood Three to bring back some detritus that fell through the Rift.  She’ll be a couple of days.”

“Ah,” he responded, a mixture of disappointment and relief evident in his voice.

“Shall we go upstairs, gentlemen?” Pete asked gently.  He had a ridiculous notion flit through his head that the Doctor might well camp outside Rose’s office until her return if he didn’t urge him on.

They took the stairway to the sixth floor, since it was quicker.  As Pete used his keycard to unlock the door, a young woman, about in her mid-30’s, burst through clutching a laptop in her arm and a pen lodged behind her right ear.

“Oh, so sorry about that, Pete!” she exclaimed, checking to make sure she hadn’t injured him while opening the door.

“Not a problem at all,” Pete said graciously.  “Actually, I was looking for you a little earlier.”  Turning to indicate the Doctor behind him, “I’d like to introduce you to a prospective employee, Dr. John Smith.  Dr. Smith, this is Dr. Hal Forbin, our Chief Astrophysicist and Astrocartographer.”

With his jaw dropping open, the Doctor just stared at Hal for a second before responding lamely, “ _You’re_ Hal?  _Hal_ Forbin?  You’re a _woman_?”

“Yeah, last I checked” she said a little self-consciously, tucking a lock of honey-blond shoulder-length hair behind her other ear.  “It’s Halley Forbin, actually.  But everyone just calls me ‘Hal’ for short.” 

“Oooooh.  Like the comet?” he laughed.  A trio of blank stares made him realize he’d forgotten he wasn’t in his universe.

“Halley’s comet?  Every 76 years?  No?”

“Halley had a comet named after him?” Hal asked, a bit confused.  She had a definite North American accent.  Most probably Mid-Western, the Doctor noted.  He thought he detected a tiny bit of a Chicago accent, so possibly Northern Illinois.  She was also quite petite, around five foot, two inches, if he were to hazard a guess.  She was dressed simply in dark jeans and a striped oxford, and he could tell she had a lean, boyish figure beneath a lab coat about one size too large.

“Oh, silly me,” the Doctor blurted with a barking laugh to cover his _faux pas_.  “I meant Edmond Halley, the _scientist_.  Guess I’d make a right lousy astrophysicist, eh?”

Pete nudged the Doctor with an elbow, turning slightly and mouthing the word ‘rude’ so that Hal couldn’t see him.

The Doctor jumped.  “Oh, I’m sorry!  I’m being rude,” he blurted again as he held out his hand.

Switching her laptop over to her left arm, she reached out to shake the proffered hand.  Almost immediately as they touched, she jumped and recoiled as if bitten.  Eyes wide, she stared at their hands for a second.

“I’m sorry… must have been a bit of static,” she said apologetically before stuffing her hand into her lab coat.

Staring back and forth between his hand and Hal Forbin, the Doctor noted that her dark sapphire blue eyes, so dark that they would probably be almost black in low light, had dilated momentarily after touching him.  He had felt the briefest of psychic connections to the researcher when they clasped hands, but almost immediately the mental doors had slammed shut.

_Hhhhm_ _._ _That was no static shock,_ he mused.  _Fairly powerful psychic ability for a human._ _But where did she learn how to shield herself so completely and reflexively?  That’s a strictly learned response…_

Hal, whose face had suddenly become unreadable and impassive, glanced at her watch.  “Oh dear, I must go.  I promised Malcolm I’d go over some energy signatures he is concerned about and see if I can locate where they originated.”

“Malcolm is joining us for lunch in the cafeteria,” Pete mentioned casually.  “Why don’t you join us, Hal?”

“Thanks, Pete, but I have a tonne of work to do, and I brought lunch with me to eat at my desk.”

“What have I told you about that, Hal,” Pete admonished.  “You eat almost all of your lunches at your desk.  Take a break,” he said, a stern tone indicated he expected her to show up.  “You can tell Dr. Smith about some of your current projects and keep Malcolm from hyperventilating.  He doesn’t leave his desk much, either.”

Raising an eyebrow in amusement, Hal nodded.  “True, he doesn’t,” she agreed.  “I guess neither of us has a life outside research.”  She turned back to the Doctor for a moment before walking down the stairs.  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Smith.”

“Likewise,” said the Doctor with one of his most charming smiles.  “And you can just call me ‘the Doctor’ instead.  Dr. Smith was what everyone called my father.”

Hal gave him another raised right eyebrow at that before disappearing down the staircase.

_Hmmmm_ _, put a couple of pointed ears on her, and you’d have a Vulcan,_ thought the Doctor as he watched her leave.  _Please tell me she’s not a vegan!_

His thoughts were interrupted by Pete’s soft swearing as he discovered they were trapped in the stairway.  “Bloody hell, we waited too long to go through the door and now my bloody badge doesn’t work.”  He stabbed the button on the keypad to call up Security, sighing.  “Let that be a lesson to you.  You have 20 seconds to clear the door, or it locks back and the system assumes you’re inside and won’t let you badge back into the same area.”

A few minutes later, they were on the sixth floor and perusing the office space there.  There seemed to be far less occupied offices compared to the floor below.  Pete pointed to a bank of four office spaces that had only one occupant.

“That’s Hal’s office,” he nodded to the one occupied office.  Its door was closed, but two offices to the left and one to the right were darkened and empty of anything except basic furnishings.  “If you decide to stay with us, you can have one of the three open offices near Hal.”

The Doctor wandered into the office to the left of Hal’s and walked around with his hands in his pockets.  He looked askance at the two opaque walls, and peered out of the large bay window to the back of the room.  He could see zeppelins in the sky over Canary Wharf and the city, and a decent view of the Thames.  Not a bad view at all, he thought.  If one had to have doors and windows, that is.  He appreciated the generous amount of bookshelves along one of the walls and below the window.  The desktop surface was ample enough to spread out maps, schematics or other large print-outs, so he couldn’t complain about that.

“What do you think, Doctor?” asked Pete.

“Could I have a larger white board?” he pointed out on the right wall where a five-by-five foot white board currently resided.  “I’d be lucky to write one formula on that thing.”

“Done,” said Pete.

“And how about a slightly longer sofa?” he said, nodding to the one along the glass wall.  “That one’s ok for someone five foot nothing, but I can hardly fit on that.”

Pete rolled his eyes.  “It’s for meetings, not kips.  But yeah, you can have a longer sofa.  Anything else?  Anything that’ll actually fit into the office, I might add?”

He frowned in concentration for a bit.  “Ooooh, a banana tree!” he chortled.

“What?  A _what_?”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, Pete.  Not a banana _tree,_ ” he said, holding his hands high in the air to indicate a live tree.  “I meant one of those wire thingies with a hook for you to hang your banana bunches as they ripen.”

Jake had disappeared into one of the other empty offices to stifle his laughter at the idea of a large banana plant growing in one of the Torchwood offices.  He was obviously not succeeding, as several people came down the corridor to find out what was so hilarious.

Pete sighed.  “Well, Hal,” he said quietly with a shake of his head.  “There goes the neighborhood.”  


	14. Can I Tell You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II delves into the mystery surrounding Hal, only to bite off a bit more than he can chew.

 

After meeting a few more personnel on several floors, Pete decided to give the Doctor and Jake a break from the Torchwood tour at 11:00 am.  Jake was temporarily released until noon, when he was to meet Pete, Malcolm, Hal and the Doctor for lunch in the Torchwood cafeteria.  Taking the Doctor back to his office on the 25th floor, Pete fell into his comfy leather chair.  Waving the Doctor into a seat, he opened a drawer in his desk and produced two whiskey glasses into which he splashed a generous helping of scotch.  

“So, what do you think so far?” he inquired as he handed the Doctor one of the glasses.

“You drink in your office?” he asked with a slight frown, peering back at the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any second.

“Wouldn’t set foot in this place if I didn’t have scotch hidden somewhere,” said Pete matter-of-factly.

“And it’s not even noon, Pete,” groused the Doctor who, nevertheless, sipped his scotch as if it were.

“It’s noon _somewhere_ ,” Pete said with a sly grin.

“Awww, and here I was, thinking you didn’t get the concept of ‘timey-wimey,’” the Doctor ribbed him.  

“And here I was,” Pete said only slightly more seriously, “beginning to think that Time Lords were a bunch of puritanical pontificators.”

Clearing his throat, the Doctor lost his smile.  “They _were_ a bunch of puritanical pontificators in many respects,” he said softly.  “Has there been any indication of Time Lords in this universe, Pete?”

“Just anecdotal.  Folklore, really, and subject to misinterpretation.  Any technologically advanced alien culture might seem like Time Lords to the unsophisticated.  We’re hoping you can help us divide the wheat from the chaff.”

“I could do that,” he said, rolling his glass between the palms of his hands.  “But what assurance do I have that I wouldn’t be the one being studied… or dissected?”

“Well, first of all, you have my word that nothing official could ever happen to you at Torchwood as long as I’m leading it.  You will have my full protection and I’ll spread the word that you’re my god-son, if necessary.  Second, I would consider dissemination of information on your true nature to be on a need-to-know basis only.  Finally… can you imagine what would happen to me if I came back home without you one day?”

The Doctor’s smile ghosted back at the last, but he was still obviously troubled.  “Pete, what about those who don’t fall under your or Jackie’s protection?  Are there any non-humans, perhaps, employed by Torchwood?”

“What do you mean,” Pete asked, concerned now.

“What do you know of Halley Forbin?” asked the Doctor cagily.  

“Well,” Pete said as he thought, “she’s quite brilliant, possibly our most brilliant scientist.  Could easily give you a run for your money in that department.  Three PhD’s from top schools in the States, all with top honours; one from the University of Illinois, one from Caltech and another from Arizona State University.  Quite the loner, though.  She’s been a dedicated, hard-working, top-flight employee for the past five years.  All of her credentials and background checks pass muster, if that’s what you mean.  Don’t tell me you suspect she’s not human.  Her genetics test didn’t indicate anything particularly odd, except she has a lot of rather rare mutations and a few no-calls.”

“No-calls?” he asked, curious.

“Errors in sequencing that show up as unidentifiable.  Could well be the sequencer’s fault or how the sample was handled,” explained Pete.

“I suspect she is an extremely potent telepath.  One of the strongest I’ve ever encountered.”

Pete shook his head.  “We have other telepaths in Torchwood’s employ, but they’re all human.  We hire them specifically because of their psi ratings.”

“Not like this one,” the Time Lord insisted.  “And she is not merely a strong telepath, but she has incredibly sophisticated mental shielding capabilities that no one from the twenty-first century should possess without instruction from a member of an extra-terrestrial telepathic race. I could teach a human with psychic capabilities the techniques, but I’ve never seen one who developed the skills on their own.”

“So, what you’re telling me, Doctor, is that out of all the interesting and other-worldly things you could do at Torchwood Tower,” Pete said with a smile, “you want to come here to study Hal Forbin and find out if she’s an alien?”

“Uh, no?!?” the Doctor said, horrified.  “Did I say that?”

“Just wonderin’ what Jackie’ll do when she hears that!”

“You wouldn’t!  _Don’t_ you _dare… don’t you dare_ say any such thing, Pete!” the Doctor gasped, eyes wide.  “You know she wants me to start dating other women, right?”

Pete chuckled evilly.  “Oh, I do think I have the perfect blackmail now.”  Reaching to a table behind him, he brought out a thick folder marked with the name of _John N. Smith_ on the label.

He placed a document from the top of the folder in front of the Doctor.  “This is a document detailing your sign-on bonus.  Once you’ve finished the contract, sign it and I’ll have it deposited into your bank account.”

“Pete?” asked the Doctor meekly.  “There are an awful lot of zeds on the end of that number.  I don’t know much about money, but isn’t that about a year’s salary?”

“Roughly,” he nodded.  “Torchwood pays well.  Once you sign it and the contract, you’ll immediately begin a six-week provisional employment period.  Even if you terminate anytime during the six weeks, the bonus is yours to keep.  There are also documents related to your background story that you need to memorize.  Most of what is there is familiar to you, including your degrees from the University of Edinburgh and cover story of how you are my god-son who came to live with us.  The rest of the paperwork you’ll need when you visit Security for your new badge.  I’ll take care of the paperwork for HR, you only need to sign it.” 

“HR… Human Resources?” he gulped.

“Yeah.  Were I to actually suspect any alien infiltrators, I would start looking there,” Pete joked.  “Be glad I’m taking care of them on your behalf.  You can leave the paperwork here until after we finish lunch.  Jake should return any minute.  And Doctor?”

He looked up, having paled a bit at the unspeakable thought of moving one step closer to a house with windows, doors, carpet and a mortgage.  “Yes?” he choked.

“No harassing Hal, understood?  She’s one of my best employees, and she is fiercely protective of her privacy.  She seldom socializes with other employees, and she only attends Torchwood social functions if they’re mandatory.  I have no idea what she does in her free time, and I’m not interested in finding out.  If you can get her to open up and talk to you, fine.  But no prying for dirt.”

“So, what if I very cleverly and stealthily scan her with my sonic screwdriver?”

“We have a fully-equipped infirmary.  I’m sure the medics will be quite adept at removing it from whatever orifice she stuffs it into,” quipped Pete.

“Is she really that tetchy that she would have a go at me?  I usually have no problem getting people to talk to me when I turn on the charm.”

“You mean, when they can get a word in edgewise,” Pete retorted.

“So what if I eventually tell her where I really came from, Pete?  If she’s hiding because she’s afraid of being discovered as having extra-terrestrial origin, maybe that would get her to trust in me.”

“I would advise against that, Doctor.  However, she has the second highest security clearance in the Institute, and her propensity to be tight-lipped makes her a lower risk, so I won’t forbid it.  You would do better to leverage her strengths in getting your own projects completed and get to know her that way.  She’s much more intelligent than you think.”

“Speaking of projects, Pete… I’d like to talk to you about utilizing Torchwood resources to grow the new TARDIS coral.  Someplace absolutely secure.”

“I have just the place.  I’ll show it to you after lunch,” Pete promised as Jake knocked on the door.

“Time for  lunch,” insisted Jake.  “I could eat a horse.”

“Never understood what the French see in horse meat,” grumbled the Doctor.  “They’re so much better ridden than eaten.”

“I really don’t want to know,” Pete said with a shake of his head.  He put the folder neatly into a drawer before they left to meet the others in the cafeteria.

The Torchwood cafeteria was a large open area on the lower level with a high ceiling.  Natural light from the surrounding windows streamed through scattered potted plants and trees in the centre atrium, which extended to the second floor of the building.  

“Look, Boss,” Jake pointed to the atrium with an evil grin.  “Perfect place to put a banana tree for the Doctor.”

“Oh, could we?” wheedled the Doctor to Pete.

“No,” Pete emphatically spat out.  “No fruit trees of any kind.  They’re messy.”

There were a plethora of round and oblong tables of various capacities, from one of which they could see Malcolm sitting and waving to them.  Returning with their trays of food, they sat at a round table for six, Pete flanking the Doctor on his left followed by Jake and Malcolm.

Much to Pete’s surprise, it was Malcolm who started chattering non-stop after the usual niceties.  It was obvious that he’d been simmering for hours, waiting to regale them with his theories about the Rift and the origin of some of the energy signatures he’d analysed.  An animated exchange broke out between Malcolm and the Doctor regarding energy nomenclature that left Jake and Pete shrugging their shoulders in etymological defeat.  All four men turned when they noted that the huge room’s noise level had suddenly hushed somewhat.

Stepping into the open area from the lift banks, Hal Forbin appeared rather lost and uncomfortable.  Her eyes scanned the tables and chairs only briefly before locking onto Pete’s face.  She walked across the room towards the group carrying a small thermal lunch bag by the shoulder strap, her slender figure making her appear even smaller and thinner without the oversized lab coat.  Quite a few heads turned to stare curiously as she passed, not unnoticed by Hal, who chose to ignore their rude behaviour.

“Hello,” she greeted them with a faint smile.  She sat next to the Doctor and started removing items from the lunch bag.

“Hello, again,” chirped the Doctor.  A chorus of greetings from the others followed as she acknowledged them all with a nod.  The noise level in the cafeteria ramped up to normal level now that she was sitting.

He couldn’t help but to take a closer look now that she was sitting next to him.  He noticed that Hal’s honey-blonde hair was extremely fine, feathered in the front, and tended to fly away at a moment’s notice.  She was constantly tucking the sides around her ears to keep it in place.  Her heart-shaped face and flawless milk-with-honey complexion was completely devoid of make-up.  She had a natural and delicate beauty that required none.  He instantly thought of Rose, and wondered if she realized how beautiful she would look without make-up.

Pete gave her a warm smile.  “Thanks for joining us, Hal.  I know this isn’t your style, but I’d really like for you to get to know the Doctor here.  I’m pretty sure he’s going to be working with you on some of his projects, and I think he might be helpful for some of your projects, as well.”

Warily, Hal continued to focus on her lunch items and said, “Oh.  So you’ve decided to stay?”  From her tone, the Doctor couldn’t tell if she thought that was a good thing or bad.  Hal looked up, blinked and frowned, because the Doctor was now wearing a pair of cheap 3D glasses.  Pete and Jake snorted sophomorically as he whipped the glasses off and deposited them in his inner coat pocket.

“Uhm… yeah, I think so,” he offered.  He gave Pete a hard look to let him know that he knew he was being corralled by the canny Head of Torchwood.  He turned back to the petite researcher.  “I would certainly welcome any assistance you could give me with identifying and locating artefacts from time-sensitive races in this universe,” he said congenially.  

Hal looked up sharply and pinned him with a direct and bold stare.  “In _this_ universe,” she said slowly in emphasis.  “You say that as if you have evidence of races from _other_ universes,” she said with not a little suspicion.

“Eeeh, uhm…,” he sputtered while ruffling the back of his hair before waving vaguely in Malcolm’s general direction.  “Malcolm here was telling me that he’s discovered energy signatures from the Rift that don’t appear to have an origin in our universe.  I would assume there might be time-sensitive races throughout the multiverse, but I’ll stick closer to home for the time being. ”

_Rassilon,_ _gotta watch my gob around this one,_ he thought.  _She’s as quick as a prosecution solicitor._

“Why just time-sensitive?” she drilled.  Her face had become unreadable again, her full lips hardened into almost a pursed appearance and exposing her underlying tension.

“He doesn’t know anything about your current projects, Hal,” Pete interjected.  “It just so happens that the Doctor has a special interest in time-sensitive alien races and can identify some of their artefacts based on his long-term research.  He could potentially bring some light to many of the artefacts you’re studying.”

Hal gave out an almost imperceptible dubious hum as she turned back to her food.  A sandwich in a zippered plastic bag, wide-mouth thermos of tomato soup, cored apple slices and bottled water comprised her simple meal.

“Hmmm, smoked turkey on rye with mayo,” observed the Doctor.  “And is that arugula I smell, too?”  _At least she’s not a complete Vulcan,_ he was happy to see.  _Not vegetarian.  Far too many vegans running around these days._

Hal stopped in the middle of unwrapping her sandwich.  “How could you tell that?  I hadn’t opened the bag yet,” she said.  

“Highly developed senses,” the Doctor indicated with a tap to his nose.  “I could smell the content through the plastic.  I can even tell the soup is homemade, as well.  No trace of a tin smell to it.”

“I hate prepared foods,” she sniffed, looking pointedly at the Doctor’s burger and chips growing cold on his plate. “That stuff will kill you.”

He laughed, pulling the lettuce from his burger and tossing it aside.  “Sorry, but I am particularly sensitive to bitter tastes.  You couldn’t pay me to eat arugula.  Asparagus is right out.”

“So,” said Hal, a bit amused, “you have the taste buds of a toddler.”

Pete decided to interrupt, seeing the Doctor was starting to pout in insult.  “You have no idea,” he told Hal conspiratorially.  “We have a terrible time getting him to eat his vegetables.”  Hal blinked in mild surprise at Pete’s comment, but stayed silent.  Malcolm and Jake continued to quietly eat, entertained by the verbal sparring between Hal and the Doctor.

Sniffing in derision, the Doctor pulled himself into a stiff dignified posture.  “I’ll have you know I can analyse and identify thousands of chemical compounds with this tongue of mine,” he said proudly, plastering said tongue to the back of his top teeth.  Pete slapped his forehead as Jake sniggered behind his hand.  “I can tell you what you’ve ingested in the last twenty-four hours, as a matter of fact,” he expounded.

“Uh, Doctor…,” began Pete.  Before Pete could say another word, the Doctor grasped Hal’s unoccupied hand, shoved the sleeve of her shirt up and took a long swipe of her wrist and inner forearm with the flat of his tongue.  Squeaking from shock, she immediately snatched her hand back and shot the Doctor a look of astonishment and outrage.

_“Plaaah!”_ he exclaimed, scrunching up his face in repulsion.  Grabbing up a paper napkin, he wiped his tongue on it while continuing to make sounds of disgust.  Hal was doing much the same with her napkin, scrubbing at her forearm as if noxious chemicals had been spilled on her.  Eyes hardened as steel, she fixed the Doctor with a glare.

“Did you just _lick_ me?” she hissed, eyes narrowed.  “I know you didn’t just _lick_ me,” she continued, seeking an explanation for the violation of her body.

Malcolm was sitting stunned, silent and round-eyed, while Pete and Jake were almost under the table, incapacitated with laughter.

“Did you eat... pears recently?” the Doctor spat out with pieces of shredded napkin.

“I had a pear for breakfast,” she answered, not mollified in the slightest.

“And… and… something else.  Broccoli, perhaps?”

That seemed to take the wind out of Hal’s sail.  Curiosity got the better of her as her expression turned more neutral.  “Well, rabe, actually.  It’s a member of the brassica family, similar to swedes and broccoli.  I had it for dinner last night.  You could taste that?”

“It’s awfully bitter,” whinged the Doctor.

“Yes,” she answered thoughtfully.  “It is a bit bitter, at that.  It’s one of the things I like most about it.  Broccoli can be so boring at times.”

“And I also taste soap.  _Pears_ soap, at that!  I can detect the thyme, rosemary, limonene and glycerine in it.  I can’t believe they still make that stuff, and why did they keep that abhorrent name for it?  Regardless of how they actually pronounce it, it was horrible in the 1700’s and it’s still awful today!”

Realizing that the Doctor had apparently gotten the worst of his analytical methodology, Hal gave him a weak smile.  “I have sensitive skin,” she said mildly.  “That will teach you to keep your tongue to yourself.”

Taking a swig of Pete’s apple juice and swishing it to take the bad taste from his mouth, the Doctor winced.  “If you routinely eat pears, rabe and whatnot, and continue to wash in that abominable soap, you can count on that!” he whined.

Coughing as he tried to compose himself, Pete pushed the cup of apple juice in front of the Doctor.  “It’s obvious we need to get you into our new-hire orientation classes, Doctor,” he said gently.  “Can’t have you licking employees at will.  It could be considered an assault, at the very least.  Or worse.”

“Well, it would be interesting to see how well he holds up against Buzzcutt,” smirked Hal.

“Buzzcutt?” asked the Doctor?

“Yeah, Doc.  That’s her nickname for Lieutenant Butler.  He conducts the new-hire defence training courses,” Jake explained.  “Kinda interestin’ bloke, really.  Use’ta be with the U.S. Marines, an’ he mops the floor up with ya.”

“Oooh, like Coach Bradley Buzzcut from _Beavis and Butthead_ ,” chuckled the Doctor.  “Does he wear a crew cut, too?”

Hal almost choked on the mouthful of sandwich she was swallowing as Malcolm quickly leaned over to slap her on the back.  She took a swallow of water and cleared her throat before turning to the Doctor and locking eyes with him.

For the first time since arriving in Pete’s World, the Doctor felt the tentative touch of a psychic probe brush his mind.  He tightened his mental shields instinctively, caught by surprise.  The probe withdrew immediately, and he forced himself to drop his shields a bit to invite the touch again, but it didn’t return.

_It’s got to be her,_ he mused in wonder.  _Who else would have that degree of control and could tell I had blocked it?_ Reaching out gently to Hal’s mind, he encountered a shocking surprise.  Not only had she withdrawn, but her mental shields were a glassy-smooth impenetrable barrier with not even the slightest flaw that he could detect.  He could only marvel at the beautiful perfection of her control, which he had to grudgingly admit were more advanced than his own.  Being more of a touch-telepath, the Doctor wished he hadn’t wasted his one opportunity to make physical contact.

As if aware that the Doctor was now trying to probe her mind and had been unsuccessful, she serenely turned back to her sandwich as if nothing had happened.  Blithely unaware of an exchange between the two, Pete tried to reassure the Doctor about his upcoming self-defence course.

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” Pete said with a soft raspberry.

“I’m not worried,” puffed the Doctor with his usual show of bravado.  “I could teach him some Venusian Aikido moves that will amaze him.  He’ll thank me for it later.”

“Venusian, Doctor?” asked Malcolm.  Pete stared down at his salad while Jake looked up to the ceiling.

Realizing his mistake, the Doctor quickly tried to cover his tracks.  “Uhm, weeeellll,” he drawled, “that’s what _I_ call the style because it seems like you need five arms and five legs to master it.  Naturally, I had no problem mastering it, but…”

“And Venusians, you’re assuming, have five arms and five legs?”  Hal was giving him another direct stare.  The Eyebrow of Death, as he was beginning to think of it, was raised again.

Pressing his tongue firmly against his upper teeth again, the Doctor desperately tried to think of a comeback when Pete raced to his rescue.

“Doctor, why don’t we use what little time we have left for lunch to find out what Hal is studying right now?  It may be pertinent to your proposed projects.”

“Right.  Molto bene,” muttered the Doctor as he rubbed his sweating palms together.  Much to Pete’s relief, the remainder of the fifteen minutes went fairly uneventful.  Hal discussed at a very unnecessarily high level how she was mapping star charts based on evidence from the archives and Malcolm’s analyses of energy emitted from extra-terrestrial sources.  Malcolm expounded at length over his studies until everyone’s eyes glazed over.  Except for the Doctor, of course, who proclaimed Malcolm his new best friend.  Jake detailed how he was helping to integrate the Preachers into the Torchwood organization now that John Lumic and his Cybus Industries were no longer a threat.  

“What was that?” Hal asked in the middle of Jake’s briefing. 

“What was what?” Pete asked.

“That sound… it was a whirring, buzzing sound.  A high-pitched electronic sound.”

Pete looked down just in time to see the Doctor glance at his extended sonic screwdriver beneath the table before collapsing it and secreting the device back into his pocket.  Pete sighed.  “Must be the white noise filter on the fritz again,” he lied.  “I really need to get them to replace that sound loop.  It’s supposed to hide noise, not add to it.”

The Doctor remained fairly reticent for the rest of the lunch period, asking only very simple questions for clarification and giving each the odd compliment on their innovation and intelligence.  They adjourned as Pete thanked them all for taking the time to meet the Doctor, and promising to get them together again in the near future.  He smiled as he and the Doctor walked back to his office.  He felt reasonably assured that the Doctor would join on, now that he’d met two employees whose brilliance he obviously admired.

With only the faintest hint of reluctance, the Doctor read and signed his contract and other documentation upon return to Pete’s office.  By late afternoon he was sporting a new Torchwood ID badge with his picture, thumbprint and encoded medical information (of which a clear NO ASPIRIN notation had been added and left encrypted for all infirmary personnel to access) embedded on the RFID chip.  He seemed pleased about wearing a long lab coat; it reminding him of his old brown trench coat gifted to him by Janis Joplin.

On his second full day at Torchwood, bruised and aching from his first class with ‘Buzzcut Butler,’ he decided to take a trip to the men’s room… one floor below his office, which was being set up for him with new computer equipment, a larger white board and sofa.  Strolling down the corridor with hands in pockets, he noticed light emitting from Rose’s office.  He strolled past, whistling as he went, as if he didn’t know it was Rose’s office.  He saw her, in his peripheral vision, look up from her desk as he passed, so he walked backwards back into view.

“Hallo, Rose,” he said casually as he leaned against her doorframe, but didn’t cross the threshold.  “Didn’t know you were in.”

“Hallo,” she said quietly.  She didn’t seem terribly surprised to see him and motioned for him to come in and sit on her sofa in front of the desk.  He sat and nodded to the model of the Atraxi cruiser on her desk.

“I hear you have accomplished quite a feat of daring-do about a year ago.  Handling the Atraxi successfully isn’t something for the weak of heart or inexperienced,” he complimented her.

“Not as _daring_ as lickin’ the Glacier Queen in the cafeteria in front of God an’ everybody,” she replied evenly.  Her face was impassive, but her eyes glittered coldly in delivery.

_Oops. Now I’ve done it._

Scratching the back of his head as he stared at the ceiling, the floor, the walls, anywhere but at Rose, he knew he was treading on thin ice.  “Weeeelll,” he drawled, “you know me.  Jus’ showboatin’, really.  Had to prove I possess better than average senses, and whatnot.”

“So, did ya tell her that you’re half-Time Lord,” she asked as she leaned back against her desk and crossed her arms.

“Uh… no?” he responded sheepishly.  “And _Glacier Queen,_ Rose?  Where did that come from?” he just had to ask.

She launched herself off the desk and walked slowly back behind it, as if putting a barrier between them.  “You just had to pick the one woman in all of Torchwood that nobody can get close to, didn’t you?”

“P...p… pick her, Rose?” he sputtered.  “Pick her for what?”

“I dunno.  Guess you could always use her for an ironin’ board or somethin’,” Rose said innocently.

The Doctor felt the blood drain from his face, then flush almost immediately afterwards as he picked up on Rose’s slightly veiled insult.  He grimaced in confusion and anxiety, not quite sure how to handle this situation.  “But… but… it was Pete who introduced her and invited her to lunch.  I didn’t pick her for anything.  I’m truly gobsmacked and confused by your reaction, Rose.  What are you tryin’ to say?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said ambivalently.  “So, where’s your office?” she tossed out obliquely, switching gears on him before he could recover.

“Upstairs,” he answered faintly.  He was trying to think of a graceful exit from Rose’s office before he, or Rose, said too much more.

“So what brings you down here with us lowly Field folks?” she asked.

He pointed weakly down the corridor.  “Men’s room?  The one upstairs was rather fully occupied, so I thought I’d come down here.”  He looked at her directly finally before adding, “And I was hoping you’d be here so I could say hello.  You were at Torchwood Three my first day and a half here.”

“Hhhmmm,” she hummed.  “Sent to pick up an’ go through debris that didn’t amount to anythin’.  Wild goose chase, if ya asked me.”

Seeing a perfect opportunity for an escape, the Doctor took it.  “Well, Rose… if you ever encounter anything you’d like me to take a look at, jus’ let me know,” he said with a big forced grin.  “And now, I think I’ll run so I can get back to my desk.  They’re installing my new computers!” he chortled.

“Of course,” Rose said professionally, holding out her hand for a shake.  “Welcome to Torchwood, Doctor,” she said with a trained smile.

“Thank you, Rose!” he said before galloping from her office as if it were on fire.  It took him twenty minutes in the men’s room before he could compose himself well enough to leave without trembling.  That Rose seemed to think he had deliberately licked Hal’s wrist as a show of sexual interest had rattled him to the core.  Sensing that Rose would not be especially receptive to any of his explanations, he had decided against revealing his suspicions about the researcher.  He hadn’t even discussed some of his findings with Pete and, sadly, at present he trusted Pete more.  He chose to take the stairs on the opposite side of the floor, rather than cross Rose’s office again.

On the next day, he knocked on Hal’s open door at lunch time.  As usual, she was eating at her desk and typing furiously, multitasking between three keyboards and monitors crowding her desk surface.  He noticed that her typing was at a phenomenal and impressive speed, well exceeding the 100 words per minute he’d inherited from Donna.  Hal looked up as he knocked, and then casually covered a sketchpad of drawings on her desk.  A charred, weathered artefact sat next to the sketchpad, which the Doctor couldn’t quite see from the door.

“Hello, Doctor.  How can I help you?” she said pleasantly.

“Hallo, Hal.  I was wondering if you might allow me access to some of your files,” he said with a smile.

“Which ones?”

“Oh, a few cartography files on the Kasterborous system,” he said as he drew nearer.  “I discovered they were encrypted and coded to your logon ID.”

Hal stiffened, all traces of pleasantry fleeing her face.  “Why the Kasterborous system, Doctor?” she asked just a little suspiciously.

“Well, I have a special interest in that area of space.  I suspect it may be the very epicentre of something cataclysmic that may have impacted quite a few surrounding extra-terrestrial races.”  His eyes drifted to the artefact on her desk, and he gasped.

Now that he was closer, he could see that the charred triangle of tile on her desk included etchings of small interlocking circles and lines; enough for him to recognize it immediately as Gallifreyan in origin.  Eyes wide, he reached for it to take a closer look, but not before Hal grabbed it and placed it into a drawer in her desk.

“Where did you get that?” he demanded.

“I checked it out from the Archives.  You may check it out after I’m finished,” she said flatly.

“But I can help you with that!” the Doctor gestured wildly at the drawer.  “I know what that is and where it came from.  Or, I mean, I know what it is in general, not specifically, but I can probably tell you even more if we collaborate on it.”

Hal’s eyes burrowed into the Doctor’s, her face inscrutable.  Her pupils enlarged a bit as a hint of her underlying emotional state.  Once again, the Doctor felt a silent nudge against his mental shields, but this time he was prepared for it.  The presence withdrew again, but he didn’t drop his defences offering more.

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he told her with a shake of his head.  “I’ve had a long time to perfect my mental shields.”

“Who are you?” Hal finally whispered.

“I could ask the same of you,” he countered.  “You’re mysterious, brilliant, a bit antisocial, although I’m not holding that against you or anything.”

“No law against that, is there?” Hal asked with a withering look.

“You don’t taste exactly like your average human,” he continued, pacing the floor like a lecturing professor.  “There’s something else there that I can’t quite put a finger on, but you’re possibly a hybrid.”

“What proof do you have there?  My DNA was screened when hired.”

The Doctor leaned forward and put his hands on her desk as he met her cold gaze.  “You have strong telepathic capabilities far beyond any human I know, empathy level, really.  Enlargement of the pupils always gives you lot away when you utilize your powers.  Your mental shielding is too refined for twenty-first century humans.  You could only have learned such skills from an advanced telepathic race or someone from the distant future.  You are most likely not from this universe or this time period.  You still have Void stuff clinging to you years after you crossed.”

“You are correct.  And neither are you, Doctor, from this universe or time,” Hal said in a monotone matter-of-fact voice as she leaned back into her chair.  Her demeanour now reminded the Doctor very much of a cat, playing with a mouse.  She had the eyes of a predator, a killer; one who could implacably take a life, if necessary.  One that was about to have her cover blown and who felt cornered in an organization that historically persecuted aliens.

“Really?  How’d you guess?” he said with a wide, manic grin.  He knew he was in mortal danger.  He had to stall so that he could think his way out of it.

She leaned forward.  “You talk about the multiverse as if it’s common knowledge, and mentioned _this_ universe as if distinguishing it from others,” she began.  “You mentioned Venusian Aikido, but tried to cover it up.  You lick people to analyse their biochemistry.  You scanned me sonically at lunch.  You immediately recognized an obscure reference to the animated television show, _Beavis and Butthead_.”

“Ah, let me guess,” he interrupted.  “No _Beavis and Butthead_ in this universe?”

“No,” Hal laughed chillingly.  “The only reason I know that is because my sister was quite fond of that show and made me watch it with her, so I looked it up out of nostalgia sometime after being trapped here.”

_Trapped!  I wonder how she came to be trapped here for over five years?_

“See… brilliant.  You’re just brilliant.  You’re stone-cold brilliant, but so am I!  Can I tell you something, Hal?  We’re apparently from the same, or at least a very similar, universe.  I’m trapped here, too, although I have no desire to leave at the moment.  We can help each other.  No one need know that you’re not completely human or native to this universe.  Let me help you.  I know for a fact what race created that artefact you’ve shoved into your desk, and I can translate it if there’s enough writing on it.  Trust me.”

Hal held his gaze as if trying to decide what her next step would be.  “If I’ve learned anything in my life,” she said after a few beats, “it’s to trust no one.  How do I know you won’t tell Pete, whom you obviously live with, or inadvertently give away my position with a slip of the tongue?  You certainly didn’t instil a lot of confidence in your confidentiality on Tuesday.  I’d just as soon not get locked up or dissected by Torchwood, thank you very much.”

“Hal, please,” he begged.  “Pete isn’t like that, for one.  He knows exactly what I am and where I came from.  I’m half-Time Lord, from the Kasterborous constellation and the planet Gallifrey.  Actually, I’m a biological meta-crisis of someone who was born on Gallifrey… it’s… it’s kind of a long story.  But it was _my_ people who created that tile in your desk, and they travelled through Time and Space.  They even travelled between universes, but I’m not sure how just yet.  Hal, I need to find out what happened to them in this universe.  I need to know if any of them survived in some form, if Gallifrey still exists here, or if it’s possible to somehow bring them back.  It could be the key to getting you back to your universe, if that’s possible.”

Hal stood up and walked to the window, looking out with a look of profound sadness on her face.

“No, it’s just too risky,” she whispered.  “I’ve worked too many years, and too hard, to see it all go up in smoke.  I’ve done… terrible things… in my life.  Even more terrible things to get this far.  This research isn’t just for a stupid thesis or accolade.  It’s the only way I can ever hope to get home.”

She turned her head back to lock onto the Doctor’s face.  “Why did you have to blow my cover?  I shouldn’t even let you walk out of this office now.”

Her words chilled the Doctor, yet he couldn’t ignore the plight of someone trapped away from family in another universe.  Was she actually capable of _murdering_ him just to silence him, or was that pure desperation talking?  She was telepathic.  Perhaps her people, like Time Lords, were bonded to their families or other members of their race.  That, he knew, could almost drive one mad from separation.  Could he get her to trust him?  Could _he_ trust _her?_

“Listen, in five years I can have a working Time Machine.  It’s called a TARDIS, or Time And Relative Dimension In Space.  We could actually go to any point in this universe, and any time period,” he pressed on.  “If we can find a way through, a stable wormhole perhaps, we may be able to cross the Void in it.  It’ll take lots of research, and possibly help from my counterpart in the other universe.  But I _know_ you’ll have a better chance if we work together!”

Hal turned her face back to the window, silent and contemplative.  “Five years?” she asked in a low voice.

“Five years,” the Doctor confirmed with a nod.

“Give your thoughts to me,” Hal intoned, her eyes growing into black pools as the pupils dilated.  He felt their pull, almost like the pull of black hole’s gravity well.

The Doctor gulped.  “Uhm, Time Lord with a Time Lord consciousness, me.  I’m not sure you can handle it.  Much bigger on the inside.  It doesn’t all fit in a human brain.”

“I think we’ve both established that neither of us is completely human.  I assure you, I can handle it.  It’s you who may not be able to handle what you see in my mind.”

The Doctor gasped and reeled as Hal, without so much as touching him, slipped her consciousness effortlessly past his mental shields as if they were mere water vapour.  

“No!” he choked in terror.  He clutched his head and collapsed to the floor, completely unable to resist the violation of his mind.


	15. Loner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor (Ten II) suffers a psychic attack at the hands of Hal, but something happens to change things.

 

There was no pain, only the terror of utter helplessness as Hal slipped past all the Doctor’s defences.   She moved through the walls of his mental shields and into his mind like a wraith, seemingly encountering no resistance.  Any illusions that he had truly blocked her in the past were now gone.  A being of such psychic power could have taken him at any time.

He raced to close doors, hoping, praying that she would ignore the memories and move on.  Dismayed, he watched as they popped open as she passed.  Sometimes she would pause briefly before each door; sometimes she would drift by as if completely uninterested and unconcerned by its contents.  It seemed as if she was looking for something.

“Please, Hal… don’t do this,” he whispered to the Hal consciousness as she moved implacably through his.  She swam deeper into the upper layers, cleaving through the swirling myriad of thoughts like the dorsal fin of an orca.  They parted and passed behind her in a glittering wake, barely disturbed by her presence.  His Time Lord consciousness may well be one of the most intricate designs in all of the multiverse, but Hal navigated through it as innately as a TARDIS moves through Time and Space.

She saw it all; the loneliness, the loss of loved ones, the despair, the emptiness, the unyielding and unshakable love he held for Rose, the joy he felt in his ties to the Tyler family, his tenuous hopes for the future, his strong desire to right what was wrong, his unrelenting guilt and anguish over decisions he felt compelled to make because there was no other to make them, his constant fear of the darkness within himself and of what he could become.  She brushed against the kindness that was so integral to his being, to the Doctor who made people better, and the righteous rage of the Oncoming Storm.  She turned toward the Darkness and sank deeper.

“No, please…,” pled the Doctor as she moved to those subconscious and terrifying thoughts he hid so deeply within his tortured soul.  He couldn’t bear for anyone to know the truth of him, to bear witness to his deepest shame.  He couldn’t bear to see it himself, to be stripped naked and revealed to be what he was:  A killer.  The killer of his own kind.

Hal moved unerringly to the ornate red door, blackened and charred.  Locks, bolts, chains and straps sealed it shut.  Gracefully carved Gallifreyan symbols were strewn across every square inch of its surface as a warning, an epitaph, a missive of love, devotion and longing.  He could do nothing as the locks fell away, only watch as the door swung open.

_You need not follow,_ he heard her say.  He didn’t think he could.  Behind that door madness lay.

Through the portal he could hear the billions of voices of the dead.  They cried out in fear, in agony, in despair and in accusation.  He could hear the voices of his family, his children, his grandchildren.  The voices of every Gallifreyan that died that day rose up and joined with those of the Daleks, the Greater Animus, and every other race or planet that died in the wake of the destruction he triggered, many whose names he did not even know.  He was crushed by the guilt borne of the knowledge that he would never know exactly how many deaths he was responsible for, that he had single-handedly committed genocide on a scale that no one had ever seen before, and that he had caused the extinction of far more than just his own race.  Worse, he had committed the ultimate sin of surviving the cataclysm.  His very existence was an affront to the universe, to the memory of those he had exterminated.

There was no atonement for what he had done to end the Time War; his suffering was not enough.  Closing his eyes, he allowed the weight of despair to drag him into the Darkness and finally take him.  He drifted, too tired and weary to care, to fight, to continue to hide.  

How long he drifted into the Darkness, he couldn’t tell.  Never noticing that the cries had stopped, he gradually became aware of a gentle tug and the warmth of a voice calling softly to him.

_Doctor._ __

He tried to ignore the voice in his head, wanting only to seek respite in the cold blackness of oblivion.  Even Hell itself, the Void, would be an undeserved balm to the aching emptiness in his soul.

_Doctor._ __

He sighed, irked that that even the peace and quiet of Darkness was being denied him.  He opened his eyes, blinking at the stabbing brightness of ceiling lighting.  Hovering, just above him, was Hal’s face.  She wore a mixture of concern and grief.  Her cheeks, he was shocked to see, were wet with tears.  Looking around in confusion, he saw that he was lying on the floor, almost halfway into her lap as she held him by the shoulders.

She spoke, this time in a whispery voice rather than in his head.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so very sorry,” she said as she gently rocked his upper torso.  “I had to know what you were hiding.  I didn't know. I wanted to know if you would turn me in; if I could even trust you the slightest.”

He sat up and looked away, his face a picture of devastation.  “You can’t,” he told her flatly.  “I am _Ka_ _Faraq Gatri,_ the Destroyer of Worlds.  The Oncoming Storm.  The Evil One.  Wherever I appear, death and destruction is sure to follow.  Why did you drag me back?  Why didn’t you let the Darkness take me?  You saw what I am.”

Hal shook her head sadly.  “You are a fool, Doctor.  You did what had to be done.”

“I took the lives of billions, including the entire Time Lord race, the oldest and most powerful civilization to ever arise in my universe.”

“What choice did you have?  You didn’t start the Time War,” she insisted.  “You ended it.”

“But I did start it.  It was I who was sent to prevent the creation of the Daleks.  It was I who eventually destroyed their planet, Skaro.  I had a hand in the beginning and the end of the War.”

Hal placed her fingers to his chin and turned his head to face her.  “Doctor, I have killed, too.  I know what it is to take lives, both individually and en masse.  I have killed to protect my planet, the weak, my family, and myself.  I have killed when it was my moral duty to protect my world and its allies when called to do so.  I would do it all again, if I had to.  I _will_ kill again, if necessary.  There is always collateral damage, no matter how careful one goes about it.  It can’t be helped. It wasn't your fault.”

“But billions, Hal?  How does one reconcile the cost of billions of innocent lives?  Of genocide?”

“How many billions of lives did you save, Doctor?  How many countless billions across the entire multiverse are here because you saved them?  What would have been the cost if you’d chosen to save your own planet, your own people, your own flesh and blood?  What if you’d saved the Time Lords and Daleks, instead?  Would we be having this conversation now?”

“No,” he said as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“No,” Hal echoed.  “No, because we would not exist, or because those of us who survived would be enslaved to the Daleks.”

He stared at the floor in silence, not wanting to seek or accept absolution from anyone.

“Doctor,” Hal began as she wiped the wetness from her cheeks onto her lab coat sleeve, “perhaps no one has ever told you this before… but _… thank you_.  Thank you for making the choice that no one else could make.  Thank you for saving us, for saving my family.  I would have nothing to fight for, nothing to go back to, had you not made the ultimate personal and ethical sacrifice.”

The Doctor locked eyes with Hal in wonder.  “Weren’t you about to kill me a few seconds ago?  And now you’re thanking me?”

“I was thinking about it,” she told him, cocking her eyebrow at him.  “But that was before I rudely raped and plundered your mind to find out who and what you were.”

“That _was_ rather rude, you know,” he muttered.  “Mind, at least it wasn’t as painful as most psychic violations, but it’s considered one of most egregious of acts amongst most telepathic species, you know.”

“I know, and I deeply apologize.  I promise it won’t happen again.  And I didn’t peek at _everything,_ only the stuff you were trying to hide.”

“So, now that you’ve had your way with me… have you decided not to kill me now, or…,” he hesitated.

She smiled faintly.  “… or am I considering turnabout as fair play?”

“Well, it seems only… fair… considering you were thinking about killing me, confirmed you’re an extra-terrestrial alternate universe being with unbelievably powerful psychic abilities, and you helped yourself to some of my most sensitive memories against my expressed wishes.”

“Hey, first of all,” said Hal, “I’m not an extra-terrestrial.  I’m over 80% human, and my non-human ancestors were living on the Earth over 500,000 years ago, some 300,000 years before _Homo Sapiens Sapiens_ evolved.”

The Doctors eyes grew wide and he started to open his mouth when Hal held a finger up to halt him.  “Second, I will allow you access to some of my psyche, but not currently all of it.  I could have easily killed you with just my mind from across the room, so I’d hate to take you out by reflex if you were to accidentally… uhm… hit a raw nerve.  Besides, I’m not that kind of girl who just drops her shields for strangers.  My people develop strong lifelong psychic bonds, but only with life-mates and family.  Third, it was you who seemed to be a threat, since you appeared determined to prove me non-human.  Fourth, _fair_ is where you buy a corn dog and a funnel cake, Doctor.  It doesn’t fit into the equation.”

“What’s a corn dog?  And funnel cakes?  Although, they sound nice,” spouted the Doctor, who was obviously recovering faster from his darkened mood at the mention of food.

“You suffer the Time Lord equivalent of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, don’t you?”

“ _Oi_ , no!  Well, possibly.  Well, maybe during _this_ regeneration.”

“I noticed,” she said.  “Your thought processes are rather… uhm… kaleidoscopic.”

“Oi!  Brilliant, me!”

“Didn’t say you weren’t brilliant, just that your thought processes seem rather scattered about in there,” she pointed toward his head.

“Well, seeing you haven’t let me take a peek at the inside of _your_ head yet, that’s bold.”

Hal sighed.  “I’m probably going to regret this, but meet me at end of day, and we can go to the local pub for a drink.  It’s going to take a couple of brewskies to relax me enough to let you into my head, even on the surface.”

He nodded.  “I noticed your mental shields are superb.  I’d love to learn your technique.”

“I had a really good teacher,” the smile fading from Hal’s face as she remembered something.  “About 4-ish?” she asked.   “I’ll drive.”

At exactly 4.00 pm, the Doctor showed up at Hal’s office door, sans lab coat.  On the way to the parking garage, it did occur to the Doctor that what he was doing was quite daft.  He was in the presence of an inconceivably powerful telepath who admittedly could kill with her mind alone; she had stripped his soul bare as effortless as removing a baby’s nappy, leaving him quivering inside for hours; and now he was following her to her auto to be taken to a pub so that he could make another psychic connection to her.

_Yup, definitely daft._ _Barking mad, I am._

And yet, the Doctor’s irrepressible sense of adventure and curiosity got the better of him.  His life on Pete’s World had been rather boring and lacking in such experiences since his arrival.  Hal was the first being he’d met, besides Jackie and Rose, who wasn’t native to the planet.  Under the pretense of clowning with 3D glasses in the cafeteria, he’d confirmed the presence of Void stuff on her, so he knew she’d traveled somewhere within the Void itself.  Anomalous readings from his sonic screwdriver and gustatory analysis pointed toward traces of non-human DNA.  Her interest in and protection of data related to the Kasterborous region of space made him both afraid and hopeful.  Where had she found evidence of Time Lords, and what did she actually know about them?  Learning more about this creature was worth the danger, and the adrenaline surge he got was almost as good as running from alien threats in his previous life.

Much to the Doctor’s surprise, Hal’s car was a cobalt blue late model convertible Porsche 911 Cabriolet.  Claustrophobia, something he’d never had issues with until the tour bus on Midnight, threatened to overtake him in the little 2-seater as he folded his long legs up to sit in the passenger seat.  Noting the Doctor’s unspoken discomfort, Hal retracted the top before backing out.

“You know, I really wouldn’t have imagined you being a sports car driver,” he told her.

“You were expecting a minivan, perhaps?”

“Not exactly,” he winced.  “I’m driving a hybrid at the moment, so your car appears rather posh compared to mine.”  He craned to get a good look at the interior.  “And immaculate,” he added ruefully, making a mental note to clean the interior of his car of loose chips, crisps and other debris.

She smiled.  “No kids, no passengers and not much else to do,” Hal said with a shrug.  He watched as she shifted smoothly between gears as if born to it, wondering if he would do as well.  There were a few more gears on the Porsche than on his beloved old Bessie, not that he thought Hal would ever consent to his driving her vehicle.

“So does it have a name?” he ventured.

“It’s a Porsche, Doctor,” she said as if talking to a two year-old.

“No, no… I meant a _given_ name.  Have you given your car a proper name?”

“Funny, but my sister Elly and her husband insist on naming inanimate objects.  Never felt the need to do that.  So, no.  It’s just _the Porsche_ or _the car_.”

“I had a vintage yellow roadster once named Bessie,” he pouted.  “She’s still in the other universe, unfortunately.”

“And your hybrid?  Did you name it, too?”

“Mr. Thickety Thick,” he said, still pouting slightly.

“You gave it that name because...?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just that he’s quite… slow.  But he was a gift, so I’m not complaining.  Much.”

Hal actually laughed, the first he’d heard erupt from the tiny researcher since meeting her.  It was lilting and short, reminding him of the warm trill of a flute.  He couldn’t help but to smile, wondering if he’d finally broken the ice.

They parked next to a small pub in a quiet neighborhood.  Hal got out and waited for him to extricate himself from the tiny cab before closing the top.  The inside of the pub appeared larger than one might guess from viewing it from the exterior, and they made their way to a quiet corner booth with a wooden table.

After ordering a pitcher of bitter, a glass of wine for the Doctor, and a tray of chips, they sat in slightly uncomfortable silence watching a couple of men play darts.

“So, do you come here often?” the Doctor said to try to break through the awkwardness.

“No,” she answered.  “A lone woman in a pub is simply asking to be harassed.”

“No friends?”

“Nope,” she said expressionless. 

“Well, that’s kind of rubbish, isn’t it?  You can’t go out alone and you don’t go out with friends.  Isn’t that sort of boring?” he asked, rubbing his neck.

Their chips and drinks arrived, so Hal immediately poured herself a pint and picked up one of the hot chips to blow on it.  “Never been much of a social animal, even before I came here.  I read, I play music.  Sometimes I watch videos of science and nature shows.”

“Don’t you get lonely?” he asked.  “Don’t you miss talking to other people about things other than work, or just want to hang out with a group of people and do… I dunno… stupid human stuff?”  He glanced over the pub and indicated with a point of his chin a stage where people were setting up for karaoke.

Hal drew a deep breath before answering.  “I’m a telepath, Doctor.  The constant bashing of other minds against my shields is wearing.  If I couldn’t block it out, I’d go mad.  The more people there are around me, the worse it gets.”  He watched as she drained the glass of bitter as if it were a cola before pouring herself another.

“Uhm, aren’t you driving us back to Torchwood, Hal?” he asked, a bit concerned.

“Not to worry,” Hal replied.  “I metabolize alcohol rapidly and cleanly.  It’ll only take me 15 minutes to reach legal sobriety.  You can use your sonic thingie to check before we leave, if it concerns you.”

“I’m envious,” he said, cheek resting against his fist as he gazed at the pitcher of beer.  “Used to be able to do that, but not anymore.  So, how did you end up stuck on Pete’s World, anyway?”

“Pete’s World?”

“Sorry.  This universe.  I named it Pete’s World because of Pete Tyler, but that’s just the family code name for it, I guess.”

She stared at him, sifting through her memories it seemed.  “You had a relationship with his daughter, Rose Tyler?”

“No,” he responded emphatically.  “Well, kind of.  Weeellll, not really.  We traveled together, but we were never a proper couple.  Never kissed her until I came here, and only the one time.  Well, twice, I guess.  But she was being possessed by another entity named Cassandra the first time, so I guess that didn’t count.”  Suddenly the Doctor realized she’d dodged the question he’d asked, and mentally applauded her for a skill he himself was well known for.

“I saw that,” Hal said as she dropped her gaze to her beer.  “You’re very much in love with her.”

A sad expression came over the Doctor’s face.  “I don’t even exist for her.  If she could wave her hand and make me disappear, I’m sure she would.”

Hal looked up and stared into his eyes.  “That’s not true, Doctor.”

“How do you know that?”

“She's watching you at this very moment.”

The Doctor sat up in surprise, starting to search around the pub when Hal stopped him.  “No, don’t look around, she’ll know you are aware of her.  She’s over in the corner, in the dark near the door.  I’m sure she followed us from Torchwood.”

Turning back to Hal, he appeared rather confused.  “Why would she follow us here?  She’s been a right cow to me for over three months now and wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“There is nothing logical or remotely rational about love, Doctor.  It’s why I suck at it so abysmally,” Hal said with a crooked smile.  She closed her eyes and concentrated.  “Right now I’m getting a strong sense of anger and possessiveness from her.  I’m afraid you’ve underestimated your ties to her.” 

Snorting, the Doctor crossed his arms in disbelief as Hal opened her eyes.  “That’s rubbish,” he grumbled.  “She’s in love with someone else.  The other me, to be exact.  Apparently, I remind her of him so much that it gets her knickers in a bunch, so she takes it out on me.”

Draining her glass again, she poured herself a third round and motioned for the waitress.  Hal ordered two shots of Patrón before turning back to the Doctor.  “You do know that she spent years trying to get back to you via the Dimension Cannon, so are you really so surprised that she needed time to adjust?”

“Hal, how much did you see?”

“Enough.  Your feelings for Rose permeate most of your thoughts.  Those thoughts were not hidden.  They possessed roughly fifty percent of your thought processes on the upper levels.  I couldn’t _avoid_ seeing them.”

“You know so much about me, and I know next to nothing about you,” said the Doctor, beginning to tire of being an open book.  The two shots of Patrón arrived, and Hal tossed back one of the shots before leveling her gaze at the Doctor again.

“What we are about to do, I have seldom done in my life except with bonded family members,” Hal told him.  “It will not be easy for me.”

“If you put what you don’t want me to see behind a closed door, I won’t look, Hal.”

“That would be about everything,” she chuckled.  She tossed back the second shot and chased it with a sip of beer.  “I may do a quick download at some point, because I don’t know if I can bear to do it for long.  You must tell me if you feel pain, ok?”

Nodding, the Doctor tried not to be too concerned.  He was not at all sure what to expect from a powerful telepath as Hal, nor was he completely sure of her motives, although she’d spared his life and proclaimed him a savior after plumbing his mind.  Taking his hands, she slowly guided his fingertips to her temples.

The Doctor gasped as he felt as if he had dove into an ocean of living lights.   Tendrils of energy flashed across his vision too fast for him to track.  They left afterimages like lightning, forming a network that seemed to stretch to almost infinity.  Disoriented, he flailed about until he felt something solid under his right arm.  Something warm… and furry… seemed to be holding him up, anchoring him.  Finally, he felt as if his feet found purchase on a firm surface.  Looking to his right, he found he was clutching the neck of a large golden-tan wolf-like creature.

_Are you ok now?_ He could hear its voice in his head.  A familiar voice.  It’s eyes were familiar, too; a dark-blue sapphire hue that bore straight into him.

“Hal?” he asked in amazement.

_Yes, of course.  Unlike you, I don’t carry two separate minds within my head._

“Y-y-you’re a wolf?” he stammered.

_I have many forms, but this is one of my favorites.  I could easily have been a unicorn, or a dragon, or any number of other creatures._

“You’re a Variform!”

_That’s one way of putting it, I suppose,_ she remarked.  _That is also one of the reasons I have kept my true nature a secret.  Humans tend to have a strong distrust of shifters.  The fact that I am mostly human and my primary form is humanoid would make little difference to them._

“I met a Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform once!  I thought he was the result of an extra-terrestrial crash landing on the Earth in 1540.  Didn’t you say your people have been on the Earth for over 500 millennia?” he asked.

_Please, Doctor.  Don’t mix your Variforms up.  Werewolves are, indeed, extra-terrestrial in origin.  My people were the result of evolution and breeding with other Terran species since the base Variform species appeared on the planet 500 millennia ago.   Legend has it that the first ancestors were Amorphous Variforms who were lost or abandoned by the Founders.  Our ancestors were, for lack of a better term, pets.  Unlike the Weres, we never depended on light to change, we are not limited to one form, and we do not reproduce via blood-borne components._

“So why haven’t I met someone like you before?  I spent a great deal of time on the Earth, it’s one of my favorite planets, and never have I encountered anyone like you.”

_It will take a long time to explain, but the gist of it is that I am the end result of a… rather unethical… eugenics program.  Its goal was to concentrate the Variform DNA through breeding and genetic engineering.  I’m essentially a throw-back, Doctor._

“Why would anyone do that?” exclaimed the Doctor disgustedly.

_The Variform DNA type is extremely resilient.  It will, almost without exception, adjust itself to form viable offspring with practically any species descended from the Founders.  For about 75% of the species in my universe, I am prime breeding stock. And are you not the result of eugenics, yourself?_

“Oh,” the Doctor said quietly, his eyes widening in understanding.  “So for any endangered or unethical members of a species that wanted to incorporate into their progeny strong psychic capabilities and ability to shift form…”

_Right._ _I could look forward to a life as a broodmare. Walk with me, Doctor,_ she said as she moved forward.  _We do not have much time sitting in a pub, and especially with your girlfriend watching us._

He sighed.  “I wish she was my girlfriend.”

_You truly are kind of… what do you Brits call it?  Thick?  Big Time Lord brain and all that, but still very thick._

“Oi, you remind me of someone.”

_What?  Get called that by a lot of people, do you?_

“Told you, I’m pretty brilliant.  Even by Time Lord standards,” he preened.

_Well, look around you.  Time Lords weren’t the only ones with big brains._

“Blimey,” muttered the Doctor as he looked up.  What the Doctor saw took his breath away.  Hal’s thought processes, unlike the helter-skelter, dizzying flight of thousands of thoughts racing through the upper levels of the Time Lord’s consciousness, were gleaming crystalline structures of living light.  He was awed by the beauty and orderliness of Hal’s mind, like interconnected snowflakes, only with vastly more intricate structures.  Actually, it reminded him of how timelines appeared to Time Lords.

“Hold on.  Is your mind actually operating on a quantum level?!?”

_Yes, of course.  It is not unlike how your mind accesses information on timelines, or how your TARDIS built rooms trans-dimensionally.  It’s one of the reasons I can control my mass when I shift.  When I become a horse, I have the mass of a horse.  If I become something as small as a shrew, I weight the same as a shrew.  You’d be able to put me in your pocket without any problem.  Not that I’d let you do that._

“That is just _amazing!_ And you were born like this?” he marveled.

_Not exactly._ _I was trained almost from birth to think like this, but the potential was innate.  However, this is simply the upper levels of my consciousness.  The lower levels are just as screwed up as anyone’s._

As they walked, Hal turned and led him down what appeared to be a narrow corridor.  The light began to dwindle as they sank deeper into Hal’s psyche.  Feeling the hair on the back of his neck rising, the Doctor stopped.  Vague shadows were moving in the corners of his eyes, it seemed.  Shadowy figures seemed to loom in the dark, ready to take him and drag him someplace he might never return.

_You feel it?_ Hal asked as she looked up into his face.

“Yeah.  I feel darkness, and fear, and rage, and despair,” he answered in a low voice.

_You know what is in the darkness of your own soul, and it frightens you.  But you don’t know what is within mine, so it frightens you even more.  Understand, Time Lord, that none of us is incapable of great harm.  This darkness exists within us all.  Our experiences and the choices we make uncover it, but it existed there all the time.  I could take you there, but you have already seen the Darkness and flirted with it.  I only wish to show you that you are not alone in possessing it.  I have one more thing to show you before I give you the factual information you seek._

Hal turned slightly, and the Doctor saw a portal with nothing within it.  It was Nothingness.  Empty.  An aching hole like a rent in the very fabric of Time and Space.  It was emptier than the Void, with the exception of one small pinprick of light in the middle.  The loneliness and longing the Doctor felt when he looked within forced tears to his eyes before he had to look away.

_I saw such a thing within you, Doctor.  I saw the Emptiness._

“Yes,” he said, his voice constricted by such empathy that he could barely get it out.

_This is what I am without my family.  This is what was left when I got trapped across the Void.  Elly and I are twins.  We were born bonded.  We were bonded in the womb, long before either of us became conscious beings.  She has always been there, along with our dam.  But the bond between us defies description.  We have been described as Twin Souls, two halves of one whole.  Without her, without my family, I am lost.  The tiny beam of light that you see, that is all that is left to me now.  I know she is alive, but I cannot commune with her or hear her thoughts.  I know that she is as bereft as I._

The Doctor went to his knees, wrapping his arms around the neck of the wolf at his side.  The devastation on his face was clear.  

“That is what I felt when Gallifrey burned,” he whispered.  “All of my people, every member of my family, my children and grandchildren… when they ceased to exist, their voices stopped.  That empty hole in my head and in my soul was what was left.  Now, there is a similar chord stretched between me and my other self.  I know he’s there, but I can’t touch him.  I can’t reach him.  It’s doubtful that I’ll ever see him again in the short life I have left.”

_Then we understand each other now?  We have much in common, you and I.  I must get back to my family.  You must create a new family with your bond-mate._

“My bond-mate?”

_Is it so obvious that you can’t see it?_

“Uhm, no.  I see it.  I just don’t know how to achieve it,” the Doctor sighed.

_Some Oncoming Storm you are,_ said Hal wryly.  Somehow, the wolf managed to raise an eyebrow, making the Doctor laugh.  

_I will help you as much as I can,_ she said.  _Now, we need to finish this before someone notices we’re frozen in place over our beer and chips.  Are you ready for the download?_

“I think so.”

_We begin._

Flashes of memory and images streamed into the Doctor’s head, so quickly that he felt a stab of pain deep within his brain behind his eyes.  But before he could say anything, it was over.  He opened his eyes and removed his fingers from Hal’s temples.

“Ooooh…I can see them all now,” he said in wonder.  “I see your sister Elly!  And her husband, Alan.  And… ooooh, she’s _pregnant!_ That is just brilliant!  And they live in Toronto.  And… “

Hal clapped her hand over his mouth to stop the babbling as he grew louder, drawing the attention of several people in nearby booths.  “I’m sure it’ll take some time for you to acclimate yourself to the data I gave you, and some of it won’t make sense at first.”

“I know,” he said, still excited.  “But I could do the same for you.  It’s not as elegant a delivery as what you just did, but… “

“Uhm, that’s ok,” assured Hal.  “Thank for the offer, but I really don’t need 900 years of crap floating around in my head.”

“Oi, I’m hurt,” pouted the Doctor.  “It’s not crap.  Well, not all of it, anyway.”  Checking his time sense, he realized only ten minutes had elapsed since they’d started the telepathic exchange.

“Ok, after four pints, two shots of tequila, and a massive psychic download, I think I’m ready for a nice hot bath, a sandwich and bed,” sighed Hal.

“Is she still here?” he asked apprehensively.

“She’s gone, it seems.  Must have left while we were connected.  I wasn’t exactly focusing on her at the time.”

The Doctor’s eye widened as one of the new memories surfaced.  “Oooooh... you are a _lot_ older than you look, Hal!”

“I can see why you’ve been floundering in the romance department, Doctor,” Hal said dryly.

Eyes softening and growing less manic, the Doctor stared at Hal for a second.

“I could use a proper mate, Hal.”  

Donna’s voice suddenly reverberated in his head; _You’re_ _not matin’ with me, Sunshine!_

“I… I… I mean a friend,” he amended.  “Someone who can tell me off when I’m being thick or arrogant.  Someone who can explain things to me when I’m simply not getting it.  I mean, Jackie helps sometimes.  But when it comes to Rose, I don’t know what to say to her.  She’s her mother.”

Hal took a deep breath before answering.  “Well, I think we should talk about this later, Doctor.  When I say I suck at relationships, I mean I’m totally clueless and useless in any type of relationship.  I’m not sure I know how to be anyone’s friend,” she broke to him gently.

A big manic grin broadened across his face.  “Let’s do lunch together tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I know!”

“We won’t be at work tomorrow, Doctor.”

“I know!  Isn’t that brilliant?  My first weekend after getting a job.  A milestone, eh?”

Hal groaned.  “What have I done?  Just sonic me already, ok?  We can talk in the car.”


	16. Curtain of Iron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor (Ten II) tries to convince Hal to go to lunch with him.

 

At 7.00 am on a Saturday morning, the last thing Hal expected to hear was the ringing of her mobile.  The sound so startled her that she gasped awake before rolling over to snatch the smartphone off the bedside stand.

“Hello?”  She tried not to sound as startled and out of breath as she was.

“Good morning, Hal!” came a cheery male voice from the other end.  “Have you decided where we’re going to lunch today?”

She slumped and let out the breath she’d been holding before responding.  “Doctor, I don’t believe I actually committed to lunch today, if you’ll remember.”

“What you actually said was that you’d let me know.  Well, I’m calling so you can let me know,” he continued obtusely.

“How did you get this number, anyway?”

The Doctor gave a humming laugh, as if pleased with his cleverness.  “It’s in our disaster recovery plan.  The one they made me take home this week as part of orientation.”

“So, is there a disaster right now, Doctor?”

“Uhm… not yet?” he ventured.

“Then you were not supposed to use that number!  The personal information is only to be used during an actual emergency or drill.”

“I get that,” he said.  “But, if you’d given me your number last night when you dropped me off at my car, wouldn’t it have been exactly the _same_ number as what’s on this recovery plan?”

“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her forehead.  It was too soon after waking up for her to have a Socratic discussion over improper use of confidential information, especially with the Doctor.

“So, if it’s the exact same number, what difference does it make if there’s a disaster or not at the moment?” he persisted.

“Never mind,” she capitulated.  “Where do you want to go?” she asked as she rubbed her eyes and rolled to sit upright on the edge of the bed.

“Do you like sushi?”

“Yes, if it’s decent.”

“Any reliable place near you?” he queried.

“Uhm, Little Tokyo is my favorite.  Always fresh, large menu and usually quiet.  About five blocks from here.”

“What time?” 

“Oh, about 11.30 would be best so that you miss the main lunch crowd,” she said, groaning slightly as she stretched.

“Are you alright?” he asked in concern.

“Fine.  Just stretching.”  She was reticent to tell him he’d awakened her, since 7.00 am was a luxuriously late start of the day for her, even on a weekend.  She gave the Doctor the address for the restaurant before ringing off.

_Darn,_ she thought.  _Did I just let him know where I live?  Eeediot._

“Sid,” she called out to the air.  

“Yes, Hal?” responded a disembodied voice from a hidden speaker in the wall.  It had a soothing, smooth British accent to it that belied its electronic origin.

“I could really use a little Bernado Rubaja this morning.”  An ambient acoustic instrumental piece with a South American flair played softly in the background as she made her way to the kitchen.  Taking a small pod of espresso from a cabinet and inserting it into a coffeemaker, she started a single-serve cup of espresso-ish coffee into a mug.  Having to clean up the dedicated espresso machine seemed like a waste of energy for one cup, and simply wasn’t in the cards this morning. 

Rubbing her temples, she tried to rid herself of the dull throbbing ache left over from yesterday’s encounter with the Doctor.  The complexity of his Time Lord consciousness had surprised her. That he had the discipline to maintain shields at all had intrigued and alarmed her, although his mental defences were no match for hers.

Mentally sifting through and cataloguing the memories she’d gained from him yesterday, she simultaneously made the bed as the coffee gurgled in the kitchen, stopping occasionally as a particularly interesting bit of information floated into her conscious mind.  

Hal sighed as she retrieved her espresso from the machine, sipping it slowly as she made her way to the computer console in the living area.  She entered an extended logon sequence via keyboard, grimacing as the bitter unaltered hot liquid of the espresso hit her tongue.  Years ago she’d given up sweeteners or whiteners in her coffee, finding that the bite of strong roasted beans and undiluted caffeine gave her brain cells a kick-start to the day.  A star chart appeared on the flat screen monitor as she typed, slowly rotating in 360-degree views as she rapidly tapped the keys.

Staring at the monitor for several minutes, Hal’s mind turned to other matters that had become more urgent and immediate.  She wasn’t yet sure what to do about the Time Lord.  In many respects, he irked her because he’d disrupted her well-established routine and was already trying to inveigle his way into her personal life.  Well, not that she truly had a personal life, but if she’d had one he would be barging his way into it.  He might well, she acknowledged begrudgingly, be of use to her in discovering a way home, but that didn’t mean she had to befriend him.

Having isolated herself socially from everyone in the alternate universe out of fear of discovery, she had known nothing about this strange man until introduced to him by Torchwood Director, Pete Tyler.  She had steered clear of the office grapevine, or she would have heard rumors of the sudden appearance of a mysterious Tyler “godson” at the Tyler Estate.  His supposed nebulous connection to Rose Tyler, with whom she’d worked on the Dimension Cannon project, would have undoubtedly caught her attention.  

She had heard whispered chitchat in the hallways about a powerful being in several alternate universes called “the Doctor” who supposedly could stop the stars from going out, and she had been privy to the knowledge that the Doctor was the main target of the Dimension Cannon project to which she had formerly been assigned.  But connecting “the Doctor” of the Dimension Cannon project to pretty boy “Dr. John Smith” hadn’t happened until she’d panicked and delved into his mind.

A twinge of guilt tweaked her at the thought of how she’d almost neutralized the man who’d saved them all from the ravages of the Reality Bomb.  Ironically, he, or at least his progenitor, was also responsible for disabling her most promising solution to return home.  It was she who had provided the complex temporal and spacial coordinates for the targeting systems, and they had gotten so very, very close.   With the hole between the universes now sealed, she was back to her original quandary of locating both a portal, most likely a wormhole, and having the means to get to it.

Mulling over the possibilities, she recognized that he represented an opportunity she could never have hoped for before.  She had finally found a key piece of evidence tying the legendary Time Lords to the Kasterborous system, and then the very last of the Time Lords serendipitously appeared before her promising potential transport should she find a portal somewhere within this universe.  It was almost too good to be true.  But could she actually trust him?

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust his motivations now that she’d seen the very heart of him.  He would never _deliberately_ betray her; of that she was certain.  His faith in and fondness for humanity far exceeded her own, however, and the possibility that he may inadvertently put her on the wrong side of Torchwood gave her need for pause.  Never had she felt so scared, so isolated, so terribly vulnerable, than since she’d blundered into this universe.  

But neither had the Doctor, she discovered.  Her empathic nature, usually concealed so incredibly well that only her family saw it, recognized a kindred soul in the Time Lord and immediately connected to it.  She had, much to her utter consternation, felt an urge to reach out to him.  She had wanted to comfort and protect him as if he were… family, and that frightened her more than her initial shock at being discovered.

_Oh, how Elly would have loved him,_ she thought fondly.  She had no doubt her twin would have enfolded him into the family like a big-eyed abandoned puppy, and would have guarded him like the fiercely protective mother and matriarch she was.  It was Elly’s love and protection that kept Hal sane.

“You could mother a rock,” Hal remembers telling her once.  Elly dove into her jewelry box and produced a plain grey rock attached to a cheap corroded gold-filled chain.

“Pet Rock, 1976,” Elly said with a wicked gleam in her dark chocolate eyes.  “Remember it?”

Hal had shaken her head at her deeply auburn-haired twin, incredulous.  “I remember well when you bought it, El.  I just can’t believe you still have it.”

Elly waved the manual in her hand:  “ _The care and training of your PET ROCK_ ,” it said on the cover.

“Are you serious?  You kept both of those?  Whatever are you going to do with them?  The whole concept is just the height of stupidity.”

Elly shrugged, a lop-sided grin on her face.  She held the rock by its chain and started to swing it about like a bolo.  “Guess I could always use it as a weapon,” she winked. 

Hal’s smile faded as she looked up to a framed photo on a shelf over the station.  Standing in front of a copse of trees, Elly and her husband were warmly smiling down on her.  Her heart clinched as she mourned the loss of their supportive love, stabilizing influence, and constant and immediate presence in her mind.

“What would Elly do?” Hal asked herself in a low voice.

Sid’s voice politely interrupted her thoughts.  “I am sorry, Hal.  I am afraid I do not have enough information to answer your question.  Could you please rephrase the question?”

“Fat lot of good you are,” Hal teased him with a chuckle before rising to make breakfast.

###############################################

Bounding down the stairs like an eight year-old, the Doctor called out to Jackie in the kitchen. 

“What’s up, love?” she asked, looking up from her cuppa and biscuits.  She still had her robe and slippers on, hair full of a disarray of curlers.

“Don’t wait for me for lunch, Jackie.  I’m going out,” he informed her.

Jackie’s eyes widened a bit as she set her cup down on the island.  “You’re goin’ out?  With a mate?”

“Yeah,” he offered casually.  “Someone from Torchwood.”

“A woman?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye.

“Yeah, a woman.  Halley Forbin.  She has the office next to mine.”

“Good on you, Doctor.  I’ve heard of her,” nodded Jackie.  “Rose used to talk about her all the time.  Quite smart, she said.  Kinda stand-offish, though, she tol’ me.  Looked like she needed a mate, but would have none of it.  Kept to herself all the time, she said.  Only met her a couple of times m’self, ‘cause she never comes to any of our parties.  How’d you get her to agree to lunch?”

“We’re collaborating on a project, so it’s more about exchanging information,” the Doctor replied cagily.

“Ah,” she said conspiratorially, “don’t tell Pete that.  You know he doesn’t like for his people to work afterhours ‘less it’s necessary.  Work is work and play is play, he says.  Speakin’ of play… you know the quarterly Torchwood party is here next weekend,” she added.

He nodded, happy to have Jackie’s focus somewhere besides his newly awakened social life.

“You should invite her to come to the house as sort of your plus one,” Jackie dropped dryly as she sipped her tea.

“B-b-but, she’s a Torchwood employee.  She’s already invited!”

“And she never comes ‘less she’s forced to, Doctor.  Maybe she’s jus’ shy and needs someone to hang out with,” she insisted.

“I dunno, Jackie,” the Doctor said uncomfortably, shuffling his feet like a schoolboy.  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, even if she were to accept.  And I don’t think she would.”

“Well, don’t worry,” she said slyly.  “If she doesn’t, I’ve got three ladies lined up as plus ones for ya already.  All three are nice heiresses from good families, too.  One’s a bit of a dog, but the other two are knock-outs!”

The Doctor paled, looking as if he would faint any second.  “What?!?” he asked weakly?  “You arranged _dates_ for me?”

“No, you daft idiot,” Jackie scoffed.  “You only get one of ‘em.  I’m jus’ hedgin’ my bets by linin’ up three.  An’ don’t think it was all that easy tryin’ to find one who ain’t lookin’ for a husband or a boy-toy!  Took me a bleedin’ week.”

“Oh, Jackie,” he sighed.  “I’m not ready for this.”

“Sure you are,” she said with conviction.  “You got a right nice position in Torchwood, you’re still good-looking, no gray hair yet, an’ you already got Rose lookin’ again.  All’s ya need to do is keep her lookin’.”

“She’s… looking?  At me?”

“Oh yes, she is.  Heard she followed ya to a pub last night.”

“How’d you find out about that?!?” he exclaimed.

Jackie sniffed.  “I got my sources,” was her enigmatic response.

“Hal’s just a mate, not a date.  I don’t want Rose to think I’m stepping out on her, Jackie!  That’s the last thing I want.”

“Then keep your distance, treat your lady friends like a mate… a male mate, even… an’ let Rose think whatever she likes,” Jackie said, staring him down.  “’Less you start snoggin’ her like your last few mates, she won’t have a leg to stand on.  Let the jealousy eat at her, then offer your friendship when she comes ‘round.  Promise ya it won’t be long.”

He stood with his mouth slightly agape, letting a million thoughts and emotions cascade through his brain.

“Has Rose said anything to you about last night?” he ventured.

“Not a word,” she said.  “An’ believe me, if she was really inna huff, she woulda said something first thing this mornin’.”

“I’ve gotta go,” he said, checking his watch.  “I’m off to Rotherhithe and need to be there by 11.15.  Give me a couple of days to sort out next weekend before you call on the dogs.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” she laughed as she turned back to her tea and biscuits.  “Try to talk about somethin’ besides work, ok?”

Sauntering over to Jackie, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek in answer, nicking one of her biscuits in the process.  She batted at him playfully with a big smile and a blush as he easily ducked away laughing.

He found a decent parking spot on the street about three blocks from the restaurant.  He’d arrived at exactly 11.15, so he had plenty of time to walk to Little Tokyo.  Perusing the eclectic mixture of shop storefronts and restaurants along the way, he noted most had flats over them.  A few had obviously been converted to purely residential quarters in the older neighborhood, the windows having been turned to living rooms or bricked in.  Walking into Little Tokyo, he found a rather intimate space with barely ten tables, a few booths, a fairly good sized sushi bar and barely any clientele, but it was clean and neat in appearance.

Taking a corner booth again, he ordered a single-serve cold sake and sipped it slowly as he waited.  Keeping an eye on the bay windows of the restaurant, he almost missed seeing Hal’s approach until she stepped through the door.  He waved her over once he recognized her, unable to stop staring at her hair.

“Hello,” he said as he stood up.  “I almost didn’t recognize you!  You’ve cut your hair.”

“Hi,” Hal said with a slight blush.  She reached back to feel the hair at her neckline, as if she’d just noticed something missing.  Her hair was now in a longer, feathered pixie style that no longer fell over her ears.  “I hate hair in my face,” she complained as she scooted into the booth opposite the Doctor.  “I hacked at it myself the last couple of times, but it’s sort of difficult to do the back and not have it look like you did it yourself.”

“Shortage of hairdressers in this neighborhood?” he asked cheekily.

“Uhm, no.  It’s rather bohemian, so there’s probably more hairdressers per capita than anywhere else in the city.  I’ve simply been spoiled because Elly used to cut my hair for me.”

“Sake?” he offered, pointing toward his bottle.  Hal nodded approvingly at his choice.  “ _Junmai-ginjo,”_ she murmured.  “A good choice. Why not?”  They ordered a second bottle of sake and a combo platter of sushi and sashimi, plus a couple of rolls.

“Jackie actually cuts my hair,” the Doctor told her with a smile, pointing to his carefully spiked crowning glory.

“Well, now… aren’t you special,” Hal joked.  “How do you convince the wife of a multi-millionaire to be your personal hairstylist?”

“I’m very, very good,” he answered cheekily with a wink.

“No doubt, seeing how you convinced me to tell you more about myself than anyone on this planet knows.  Not to mention convincing me to meet you for lunch,” she replied seriously.

“I’m still sorting through the memories you gave me, and I’ve so, so many questions, Hal.  For instance, I saw that you’d crash-landed here chasing a Gravalixian fighter, but what happened to your ship?”

“It was severely damaged coming through the rift I hit.  Unfortunately, the technology and parts I need to repair it are not available in the twenty-first century on this planet,” Hal said.  “Some materials can’t be found on this planet at all.  I was hoping that something might fall through the Cardiff Rift, or be found in the Archives.”

“Where did you hide a ship that big?  It is massive!”

“Cloaked, about 75 kilometers from here on an abandoned farm.  I was fortunate to be able to land it there.  It has just enough power to keep the cloaking systems operating and to mask the energy levels well below Torchwood and UNIT’s detection range.”

“I can’t believe they didn’t detect you entering the atmosphere when you crashed,” the Doctor noted.

“If I were to crash today, I would be detected.  Five years ago, cloaking was enough.  In another five years, I’m sure they’ll develop systems sophisticated enough to discover its hiding place,” she said with a worried expression.  “I’ve already had a couple of close calls.  Thank goodness I’ve been able to throw them off the scent by data manipulation,” she said with a challenging look into the Doctor’s eyes.

“Your secrets are safe with me, Hal,” he said earnestly.  “I promise, I solemnly swear I will _never_ let anyone at Torchwood harm you.”  She laughed hollowly.

“And how might you promise that, Doctor?  Get special dispensation from the Godfather, Pete Tyler?  Take away Rose Tyler’s big-ass Preacher gun?  Oh, that’s rich!  Now that I think of it, she doesn’t need to suspect I’m an alien to take a shot at me.  She’s probably thinking I’m trying to take her man.”

“Rose would never do that,” he said sharply.  “Even if she’s in a jealous rage, she might say some… well… _unpleasant_ things to you, but she would never seriously harm you.  I know her, and I am positive she would never think to harm you.  It’s just not in her nature.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t when you traveled with her,” Hal said, slightly chastened.  “She grew up and hardened during those years she launched herself through the Cannon.  She was singularly focused on getting to you, and nothing else mattered to her.”

“You didn’t show me any of that.  Why?”

Hal stared down at her hands as she rubbed her fingers nervously.  “It would have been too difficult for you.  It was difficult for me to watch, really.  She must have gone through it thousands of times, and she didn’t always come back in one piece.  The next to the last time she came back, she was completely devastated.  She said you’d… died in that world.  You’d drowned in the Thames, she said.”

“Donna’s World!  Yes, that’s when she gave Donna a message to deliver to me.”

“Donna’s World?”

“Yes, Donna Noble.  Donna was my last companion.  It’s a long story, but she was attacked with a Time Beetle.  A whole new world arose because she drove in a different direction, resulting in her never meeting me.  She didn’t save me from myself in that world, so I drowned.”

“Oh, yes, the redheaded woman,” Hal said after a beat, recalling some of the memories she’d plucked from the Time Lord’s memory.  “You cared a great deal for her.  You’re afraid the other Doctor has wiped her memories of you.”

“She was my best mate.  Like a sister, she was.  I don’t quite know what to do without her,” he said as his face fell.  “It’s all my fault if he has to rob her of her memories.”

Hal automatically reached over and grabbed the Doctor’s arm.  “Stop it!  How is that your fault?”

“It was the meta-crisis, Hal.  The meta-crisis was two-way, and her human brain can’t handle that.  If I’d never been born, she wouldn’t have a Time Lord consciousness burning her up,” he moped.

“Oh, for crying out loud!  If the meta-crisis hadn’t happened, she’d have literally burned up in the core of the Crucible.  And all of us would be very much in the dark… until we froze to death with no sun, that is.  Not exactly my favorite personal demise, thanks.”

The Doctor looked up and laughed almost tearfully as Hal withdrew her hand.  Their sushi and sashimi platter arrived, so they tucked into it. 

“Didn’t you ever think to talk to Rose while you were on the same project?” the Doctor asked after a couple of pieces.

“She’s the daughter of Torchwood’s chief, Doctor.  What do you think?”

“But the two of you were both stranded here and trying to get back.  Don’t you think she might have empathized with you?  The two of you could have gone through the Cannon together.  You could have protected each other!” pushed the Doctor, leaning forward aggressively.

“She refused to allow anyone else to go through the Cannon.  She said it was too dangerous.  I would have done it in a New York minute, and I told her that.”

“You could have made her,” the Doctor insisted.  Something very powerful and ancient passed behind the Doctor’s eyes, reminding Hal that this man was virtually a millennium old.

“Look, I know I made a poor showing recently,” said Hal quietly, “but I don’t normally make a habit of ripping through peoples’ heads, Doctor.  She was no threat to me by not allowing me access to the Cannon.  It wasn’t sufficient reason to bend her to my will.”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said contritely.  “It’s just that it bothers me that she hurt herself repeatedly trying to get back, and the two of you could have been great together.  She has an enormous capacity to accept people as they are, Hal.  She would never have turned you in.”

“And I knew that how?  She tried to get me to join her and some friends for pub night, but I avoided them, primarily because of who she was.  But again, I’m simply not the touchy-feely type, Doctor.  Sorry.”

“An empath who isn’t touchy-feely?” the Doctor asked rhetorically.  “You’re a Healer, Hal.  You’ve saved lives almost at the expense of your own.  You’ve transferred others injuries to your own body.”

Hal sucked in a sharp breath.  “How do you know?  I don’t remember showing you that.”

“A door, once opened, can be stepped through from either side, as someone once taught me.  I saw that you have abilities you try to keep carefully hidden.  Abilities that could make a real difference to a lot of people, if you would only learn to trust.”

“Every time I trust someone, I get screwed,” she said bitterly.

“It happens,” said the Doctor without so much as a hint of a smile.  “But not all of the time.  The payoff is worth the times it doesn’t work.”

Hal said nothing as their two additional rolls arrived, swallowing hard as she fought off a wave of anxiety.  Her life, so very calculated and organized, was starting to unravel with the appearance of this very ancient being in front of her.

“I wish I had Elly’s abilities right now.  She has the gift of limited clairvoyance and telekinesis,” she said sadly.  “She’d know what to do.”

“She’s not an identical twin, right?  You have different appearances and abilities?”

“Yes, we’re fraternal twins,” she said.  “We were born exactly a month apart.  Apparently, I was in a hurry to get out and almost took her along with me.  We can both shift, but it’s much easier for me, more instinctive.”  

“So,” said the Doctor with a long face, “she could explain to me what’s in this strange roll?” he said, poking one of the pieces with his chopstick.

Hal laughed.  “It’s kampyo.  Pickled gourd.  One of Elly’s friends introduced her to it while visiting in Boston, and she went nuts over it.”

Grimacing, the Doctor placed one piece on his plate and poked at it again with his chopsticks.

“It’s very tasty, trust me.  Nothing bitter or green about it, I assure you.”

Dubiously, the Doctor popped the roll into his mouth and chewed.  “Mmmmm,” he hummed.  “This is gorgeous!  I can’t believe it’s a vegetable.”

“See, I told you,” Hal said.

The Doctor took a sip of his sake, then put his elbows on the table and looked Hal directly in the eye.  “Ok, I trusted you on the kampyo roll.  So now, are you going to trust me?”

“Depends,” she said suddenly full of spunk.

“You going to let me take a look at that artefact?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Ooooh, I didn’t expect you to be so easy,” the Doctor laughed.

“Oh, I’m _anything_ but easy, Doctor,” she retorted.

“I could really use some help.  I’ve not been here but a little over three months, and I want to avoid giving myself away, like I did with the _Beavis and Butthead_ comment,” he explained.  “You’ve managed to avoid detection for five years!  So what’s so different about this world, other than the President and zeppelins?”

Hal cast her eyes around the restaurant as if checking to make sure no one was listening, then leaned forward.

“There’s no Peter Gabriel here,” she said in a low voice.

The Doctor let out a high-pitched squeak before clapping both hands over his mouth.  Several patrons looked up in surprise while a few snickered.

Hal narrowed her eyes.  “Did you just squeak like a little girl, Doctor?” she asked, trying not to break out into a grin.

“ _Nooooo_ _!_   Tell me it isn’t so!” he gasped, ignoring her jab.

“Nope, no Peter Gabriel.  No Devo.  No Kansas.  No Ian Dury.”

“That’s… that’s simply mad.  How am I gonna survive here?”

“Well,” she said smugly with her arms crossed, “guess it’s a good thing I had a copy of my audio collection onboard when I crashed.”

“Oooh, I don’t suppose you’d consider… sharing?” he asked hopefully.

“Might do,” she smiled.  “ _Quid pro quo_ , though,” she said, inspecting her nails.

“Please tell me there’s Elvis…,” he said with his hand over his heart.

“He’s still dead here, but his music lives on.”

“Thank goodness!” the Doctor said with a relieved sigh.  “I was about to throw myself into the Thames.  So, what else did you salvage from your ship?”

“Oh,” she looked around again, this time actually looking for listeners, “my main navigational AI system, for one.”

“Okaaay… that… is… impressive.  Obviously, a sophisticated navigational Artificial Intelligence system isn’t twenty-first century technology.  How did you manage to time travel to obtain such technology, anyway?”

“I’m not sure this is a good venue for discussing such things, Doctor.”

“Where can we go?  I am dying to ask you a lot of questions that would probably get us locked up, dressed in very, very long-sleeved jumpers.”

“My home is only five and a half blocks from here.  Are we done with lunch?” she asked, starting to look a little paranoid.

The Doctor paid for lunch with an elite black credit card that garnered a very high eyebrow from Hal.  “Must be terrible burden to be a Vitex tycoon’s godson,” she muttered. 

“You have no idea,” he smirked as they left the restaurant and headed out on foot.  “Designer jeans, getting chased out of the kitchen by the cook, avoiding husband-hungry heiresses dripping in designer wear, all those posh parties; it’s a madhouse!”

Reaching a stretch of shops, Hal stopped at one with bricked in windows that had been painted to appear like shop windows with dummies.  Lifting the postbox mounted next to the door, she keyed in a sequence of numbers into a hidden pad beneath, and then pressed her thumb to a small flat panel.  Red lights across the top of the panel changed from red to green as he heard the slight snick of the door lock.  They walked into a tight foyer that gave way to a stairway leading to the upper living area, while a lower door that had once led to the “shop” section had been bricked in.  The Doctor’s keen eyesight caught the dull red glow of laser beams at several points along the stairs as they ascended.

A landing at the top of the stairs had another door; a large flat panel was next to it on the wall.  Hal placed her right hand flat onto the panel where the Doctor could once again see the glow of a sensor beam scanning Hal’s hand before unlocking the door into her flat.  He followed her into the flat, and blinked as the lighting automatically brightened.

“Sid!  We have company,” Hal shouted out.  “You can call him _the Doctor_.”  She pointed to the panel just outside the door.  “Oh, yeah… press your right hand onto the panel, Doctor.”  Backing up a few steps onto the landing, he placed his right hand over the panel and held it.

“Doctor John Noble Smith,” intoned Sid slowly.  “Handprint stored and identity confirmed with Torchwood employee records.  Good afternoon, Doctor.”

“You can come in now,” Hal indicated with a wave.  

“That’s quite a security system you have,” he said.  “I saw the lasers on the stairway.”

“Those are just the secondary detection systems, not the defence systems.  Don’t even think of using your sonic on them.  It wouldn’t be pretty.  Besides, you’re probably not endearing yourself to Sid by not addressing him after he greeted you.”

“Oh, so, so sorry, Sid!” he yelled at the ceiling.  “Good afternoon.”

“No offence taken, Doctor,” Sid replied pleasantly.  “Would you like some tea?”

“Tea would be fabulous, Sid.  Thank you!”

“Actually, Sid is downstairs and can hear you just fine, so you can stop yelling at the ceiling,” said Hal.

“He’s downstairs on the lower level?”

“He takes up most of the lower level, along with the cloaking sub-systems to hide the power source and EM emissions from his primary systems,” Hal said as she offered him a seat in the living area.

“And you have access to Torchwood employee records here?  How did you manage that?” he frowned.

“That would be telling,” Hal said with another enigmatic smile.

“Amazing, absolutely amazing,” he muttered as he scanned the open living area from his position on the sofa.  Everything was immaculate and organized.  Bookshelves were neatly stacked and labeled.  Her desk was clear of clutter; the leather of the sofa was soft and smelt of saddle soap or some other cleaning product.  The hardwood floor was gleaming with nary a particle of dust or dirt on it.  The feet of furniture all had clear discs under them to prevent marring of the hardwood flooring.   A large flat panel display, at least 70” diagonal, was mounted on the wall opposite the couch.  Two media cabinets were below it, all with neatly stacked videos with labels on the shelving.  He could see a doorway to the back that led to a bedroom, while another led to a bathroom.  Another door on the right next to the computer console was at the top of a set of steep stairs leading down to the first level.

“Your tea is ready, sir,” chimed Sid.

“This way,” lead Hal as she went to the street-side kitchen with windows.  “Thank you, Sid!” she said as she picked up a mug of tea from the coffee maker.  She set the mug down on a tiny table with two chairs, setting a bowl of sugar cubes and tongs next to it.

“Milk or cream?” she asked.

“Milk, if you have it,” he said.  Hal retrieved a pint glass bottle of milk from the refrigerator for him.

“You can buy milk in bottles, still?” he asked, amazed.

“It’s dear, but yes.  I hate the taste of wax and cardboard in my milk,” she sniffed.

“Oh.  I thought I was the only one who could taste the containers in milk.  Most humans can’t,” the Doctor said as he dropped four sugar cubes into his tea.  He didn’t notice Hal’s grimace and wince at the level of sweetener.

“Shocking,” she commented drolly.  Placing another mug into the coffee maker, she began to prepare herself a cup of tea.  She reached into another cabinet to retrieve a tin of biscuits that she handed to the Doctor.

“So, tell me… how did you end up in the twenty-first Century on Earth?  You were born in the twenty-third Century, according to the memories you gave me,” the Doctor asked as she sat down across from him.  “It’s like a collage of memories, and I haven’t yet got them all sorted.”

“I was… abducted at five days-old and sold into slavery to the Sontarans.  Elly was immediately brought to the twentieth Century after birth and hidden there to prevent her from suffering a similar fate.  Apparently our dam had gotten hold of a vortex manipulator somehow.  She was reared with a foster family while I was trained… programmed, really… to be navigator of the lead Sontaran dreadnaught in an Armada launched against the Rutan host.  The plan was to start a breeding program that would introduce my genetic material into the Sontaran genome so that they could start cloning Sontarans with shape shifting abilities.  That phase was to begin when I reached… breeding age.”

“Oh, that probably would have been much more effective against the Rutans, being shape shifters themselves,” remarked the Doctor.  “Are the Rutans related, by any chance?”

Hal nodded.  “Cousins, of a sort.  We have a common ancestor, similar to Vulcans and Romulans in _Star Trek_ lore.  Sontar hoped that shape shifting would give them the edge they needed against the Rutans, but since Rutans are all telepathically connected to the Rutan host, I was their best bet.  I was almost twelve before I could be rescued.  If it weren’t for the bond between Elly and me, I might not have ever been located.”

“So you were reunited with Elly on Earth?”

“Yes, I was taken to the same time period via the vortex manipulator.  I’ve since installed a copy of the vortex manipulator into my ship.  We have spent most of our lives in Earth’s past.  It has been safe for us, so far.  Elly and I spent a bit of time in the fifty-first Century at a colony our dam established, but she ultimately chose to go back because of her husband.”

“He’s from that time period?”

“Yes, he is.  And she stays there because they both want their children to have a normal life,” she said with a saddened expression.  “She was pregnant with twins when I saw her last.  They would be at least two years-old by now.  I can’t believe I missed that; that I wasn’t there for her.”  Sighing deeply, she stared at her tea as she mindlessly stirred.

The Doctor saw her pensiveness, and decided to switch focus.  “I noticed that you refer to your… mother… as your _dam._ Why is that?”

“It’s kind of difficult to explain.  Perhaps another time?” she asked apologetically.

“Oh, certainly,” the Doctor responded quickly, not wanting to be rude for a change.  “So, what was it like growing up with the Sontarans all of that time?  I can’t imagine it was a pleasant experience.  They don’t exactly treat females with respect.”

Hal averted her eyes, suddenly more uncomfortable than ever.  “I… I… don’t really remember that much,” she said in such a low voice that he almost had to strain to hear her.

“Because you were so young?”

“No…, not really.  I don’t remember because I was… retconned, sort of,” she mumbled.

_“What?!?_   By the Sontarans?” he sputtered.

“No, not the Sontarans.  It was… it was… necessary,” she said miserably, looking like she wanted to run.  She looked up at the Doctor, eyes pleading with him not to pursue the topic.

“Almost twelve years of memories would have been your entire life at that point, Hal!  That’s… that’s… unconscionable!” he shouted, oblivious.

She stared at him for several seconds noting the fire burning in his eyes.  His righteous indignation at her treatment so very many years ago touched her; caused something to click within her.  “I killed them all,” she whispered.  “Every last one of them.  I killed them all.”

“The Sontarans on the dreadnaught?” he asked, pausing as if trying to understand.

“No,” she responded, still meeting his gaze directly.  “I killed everyone in the entire Armada.  There were over 1500 ships in those fleets.  I don’t even know how many men.”

The Doctor sat dumbfounded with a shocked look on his face.  “How?” was all he could get out.

“I… I don’t really know.  I have no memory of it.  I don’t even know _why!_ All I know is what I’ve been told since the retcon.  That I was found aboard the ship with an entirely dead crew, surrounded by the rest of the Armada, all with dead crews.  And that… and that… I subsequently went… insane.  I’ve since learned that I can kill by mind alone, so I guess that is what happened, but it’s never been on that scale again.”

“Oh, Hal,” he breathed.  “I’m so, so sorry.  It was part of your… treatment… to be retconned?”

She nodded silently, not trusting her voice.  Getting up with arms outstretched, the Doctor moved toward Hal to give her a hug, but she put her hand up.  She shook her head vigorously.

“No, please.  I can’t,” she said.

“But Hal, no one needs or deserves a hug more than you do right now,” the Doctor insisted.

“I can’t,” Hal repeated, her head still slowly shaking and her hand continuing to hold the Doctor at arm’s length.  “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I just can’t.”

Dropping his arms in defeat, the Doctor rose and sat back down.  “Will you at least let me help you?” he asked.  “How damaged is your ship?”

“The vortex manipulator I installed is toast,” she sighed.  “The power systems were fried, so I can’t even get off the ground.  I’ve been trying to locate a suitable stable wormhole somewhere close by, but that’s not worth a damn if I can’t get to it.”

“You’ve used wormholes before for travel?  Isn’t that rather imprecise?  You could end up God knows where.”

“I’m a pretty good navigator, actually,” she said with a faint smile.  “It involves a lot of complex calculations, but if the walls of the wormhole are stable enough, you can locate the right point to exit.  Depending on the wormhole, you can even cross dimensions, so that’s what I’ve been working on.”

“But you were working on locating Time Lords, too.”

“Well, looks like I’m in luck.  Got a Time Lord right here,” she smirked.  “But yes, according to folklore in the Prime universe, Time Lords were supposedly able to travel inter-dimensionally.  Is that really true, or a tall tale?”

“It’s true,” he nodded.  “But it involved at least two Time Lords and two TARDISes, one each, in each dimension.”

“And there just happens to be another Time Lord and a TARDIS in Prime,” she laughed.

“Yup,” he said with a grin, popping his “p” in typical fashion.  “And there’s the potential for a TARDIS here.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to set up the TARDIS coral growth chamber starting Monday.  Pete’s given me a secure room on our floor.”

“I would never have guessed he would be so open-minded about things.  You must trust him a great deal.”

“With my life,” the Doctor stated in all seriousness.

“And I can tell already that you think I should trust him, too.”

“I know you should,” he said.

“Doctor, how do you think he’d really feel if he knew about my powers, that I was once deemed insane, and I’ve killed a lot of people simply with my mind?  Do you think he’d feel the same if he found out just how dangerous I am?”

“Oh, Hal… you are truly… absolutely… undeniably… properly… one very scary lady.  One of the scariest people I’ve ever met in all of my 900 years of living.  But you’re nowhere near as dangerous as I can be,” he boasted.  “And that… that’s without my TARDIS!”

Hal blinked a couple of times, and then started giggling.  Within seconds, they were both laughing hysterically at the Doctor’s cocky claim.  

Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, Hal tried to catch her breath.  “So, if I find the right wormhole, you’d actually try to fly the TARDIS through it to get me back?” she asked, incredulous.

“Of course,” he said.  “We can even go back in time once we cross over, so that you can be with Elly before the twins are born.”

“Not only is it dangerous, but what if you can’t get back?”

“I eat danger for breakfast, Hal.  It’s what I do!  And of course I can get back, if it’s through a wormhole.  You’ll have to calculate the coordinates for me, or teach me how to do it.  And I’ll just have to take Rose with me, in case I get stuck there.”

“Really?  Does Rose know of your plans to whisk her off into an untested wormhole?” Hal asked, eyebrow crawling up into her hairline.

“Not yet,” the Doctor admitted.  “I have five years to convince her.  Oooh, and that reminds me.  I have a _huge_ favor to ask of you.”

“A huge favor involving… Rose?”

“No, no.  Weeelll, sort of.  But not really.  You know about the Torchwood party next Saturday, right?”

“I got the memo,” Hal said a little hesitantly.  “I never go to those.  There’s nothing worse for a telepath than a room full of drunks.  Besides, those parties all go past my bedtime.”

“I know.  Jackie told me.  But I hope you’ll go to this one.  As my… uhm… sort of like my… plus one, so to speak,” he said hopefully.  “And you can stay overnight as a guest, even!  I can arrange some private time with Pete, and we can go together to talk to him.”

“Oh, no…,” Hal said, jumping out of her seat.

“Please, Hal.  I really, truly need your help.  If I don’t have someone to go with me, Jackie will assign someone as my plus one.  She’s got three heiresses lined up as potential dates, and I don’t want a date.”

“Why me?  Why not ask Malcolm or somebody?  He never goes to those, either.  Too shy, but I think he’d go with you because he likes you.  Hasn’t stopped talking about you all week.”

“Errr, weeelll, I’m afraid he just won’t do, unfortunately,” the Doctor dissembled.

“Why not?” Hal pressed.

“Well, because… because he’s… not… uhm, female?  Jackie’s pretty firm on that.  Has to be a woman.”

A look of horror crossed Hal’s face as she realized the dynamics of the situation.  “Oh, no.  Oh, _Hell_ no!” she spat.  “You want me to go so that _Rose Tyler_ will be jealous?!?  Is that why Jackie Tyler is setting you up with a date?”

“Oooh, no, Hal.  It’s not me, I swear!” the Doctor proclaimed in panic.  “It’s Jackie!  She thinks that if Rose believes I’m somehow appearing available to other women and in danger of getting snapped up, she’ll start making a claim.  It’s not me!  I don’t want to date anyone but Rose, and I am simply not interested in the game.”

“Then don’t play it!” snapped Hal.

“But see, that’s the thing, Hal.  You’re a mate, just a mate.  I’m not asking you to pretend to be a date, or someone who is interested in me as anything but a mate.  I’m not talking about snogging, or hugging or holding hands, or anything even remotely romantic.”

“I would think _not,”_ Hal sniffed.  “And how do you think this would impact my working relationship with Rose Tyler?  Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen her packing a huge Preacher gun?  And believe me, she knows how to use it.”

“It won’t, I promise you.  Pete will make sure of that.  And she would never shoot you, I swear.  Even if… and that’s a truly hypothetical if… even if she were ever to try such a thing, I’d throw myself in front of you without so much as a second thought.”

“Oh, that’s just brilliant,” she snorted.  “That would prevent my incineration by, oh, what?  A nanosecond?”

“There will be no incinerations, I promise,” he whined.  “Please, help me, Hal.”

“No.  Sorry, I’m not going.”

The Doctor stared at her with huge pleading eyes that would melt stone.

“That ain’t gonna work, Doctor!” groaned Hal, turning to the side to try to ignore his pleas.

The Doctor dropped to his knees, gigantic chocolate brown eyes growing more plaintive than ever.  “Please, Hal.  I’m begging you!  Me!  A Time Lord, begging!  Time Lords don’t beg.  Please, _please_ save me from the man-eating heiresses in six-inch stiletto heels.  Just do that, and we can go together to talk to Pete.  We can sit someplace away from the crowd until they’ve gone.  I live there, so I know where we can go to talk without you having to put up with a roomful of people.  You can stay overnight, so there’s no driving early in the morning hours.  We’ll have breakfast at the mansion, and then we can talk to Pete… together.  I promise you, you can trust him.  No more hiding, no more worrying about your project funding, no one will stick their noses into your projects, and you’ll have Pete Tyler’s full protection.”

Hal stood thinking quietly, eyes unfocused.  She took several deep breaths before she turned back to the kneeling Time Lord.

“You so owe me for this, Doctor,” Hal glared at him.  “If Rose Tyler comes at me with an axe, or if I end up in the bowels of Torchwood Three, I am gonna haunt your every dream and nightmare for the rest of your life!”

“Oh, thank you, Hal!” he gushed.  Getting up, he bent over to grab Hal into a tight hug, wrapping his long arms around her and pinning her arms to her sides.

“Errrgh! No hugs, I said,” she grunted.

“You are so tiny,” he grinned, lifting her up in glee.

“My knee can still reach your groin, Doctor,” she warned.

Setting her back on her feet, he let her go and stepped back, still grinning like a manic mad fool.  “You won’t regret it, Hal.  I promise.  And I will do everything within my power to help you get back home to your family.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, nodding.  “Now, I think I’ve had enough traumas for one day.  Let’s get you back to your car as soon as I copy my Peter Gabriel collection for you.”

“Thank you, Hal.  What else have you got, hmmm?”

“Let’s see if we both survive through next weekend, first.”

As they left the flat, the Doctor stuck his head back through the door.  

“Goodbye, Sid!” he called out.

“Goodbye, Doctor,” Sid responded in his dulcet English burr.  “I hope you have enjoyed your visit.”


	17. Angels Have Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor (Ten II) finally gets to examine a very curious artefact from the Torchwood archives, starts building out a TARDIS growth chamber, and meets with Rose.

 

A blazing run through the grounds of the Tyler estate and a hearty breakfast set the tone for the Doctor’s first Monday at Torchwood.  Anxious to get in early so that he could peek at Hal’s artefact, he devoured eggs and rashers in record time before dashing out the door.  He was still chuckling evilly a mile from the mansion as he recalled the shocked look on Jackie’s face when he told her Hal would be his “plus one” for the Torchwood leader party on Saturday.  Of course, in his haste to get to the garage, he never heard Jackie and Pete’s snickers echoing down the hallway.

To his surprise, the lights were on in Hal’s office when he arrived.  Dropping his portfolio and coat onto his desk, he walked over to her door and leaned in.  As usual, Hal was typing furiously at one of three keyboards and didn’t seem to notice his arrival.

“Hello!  You’re a bit early into the office, aren’t you?” he asked.

Hal’s head snapped up with a blank look on her face before recognition kicked in.  Turning around with a slight smile, she leaned back into her chair.  “As are you,” she replied.  “Let me guess:  You came in early to have a gander at the artefact in my desk,” she said with a motion toward a chair next to her.

“How ever did you guess?” he grinned as he sat down.

“Oh, I had a little inkling you might want to, so I came in early to get some work done before you got here,” she said as she unlocked her desk drawer.  She placed the object on her desk, wrapped in a piece of white cloth.

Reverently, handling the object as if it would break at the slightest touch, he picked it up and slowly unfolded the cloth from around it.  A hitch in his breath belied his calm expression as he turned it in his hands.  He reached into his vest pocket, extracted a pair of reading spectacles, and put them onto his face, never taking his eyes off the artefact.  

“This is incredible,” he said softly.  He looked up, having noted that Hal was completely still and silent.  She was completely unmoving, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, staring at his face with an unreadable expression.

“What?” he asked in surprise.

“Guh,” Hal said in a low voice, apparently the only sound she was able to make.  Swallowing hard, she shook her head as if coming out of a trance before flushing slightly and fixing her eyes on the artefact.

“What?!?” the Doctor repeated.

Having regained her composure, Hal met his eyes again in an appraising look, almost as if she were kicking tyres on a car.  “Do you wear those glasses often?” she asked.

“My brainy specs?  No, not all the time.  Just need them for reading and close work,” he answered, still puzzled.

“You should wear them more often,” she said bluntly.

“Why?” he asked, still not getting the point.

“Doctor, if you had worn those glasses more around Rose, neither of us would have been subjected this weekend to a disgusting display of grovelling unbecoming of a Time Lord.”

His bottom lip protruded.  “I was just kidding,” he grumbled.

“Oh, well… since you were just kidding, I guess I’m…”

“No, no, no,” the Doctor interrupted quickly, a look of horror sparking in his eyes.  “I was kidding about the kidding!” he sputtered and laughed nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Hal grunted, unconvinced.

He carefully placed the artefact back onto her desk and leaned forward.  “Hal, are you trying to tell me that my brainy specs make me more attractive?” he smirked.

“I think you should definitely wear them to the party this Saturday,” she deflected, keeping her eyes pinned on the chuck of charred material on her desk.

“So you really think they make that much of a difference?” he prodded slyly, still grinning.

Hal shrugged nonchalantly.  “In a sort of… chic geek fashion, yes,” she answered.  “Shall we discuss the artefact now?”

“Oh, of course,” he smiled, picking up the artefact again and turning his attention fully to it.

“Where was this found?” he began, clearly fascinated as he turned the remnant several different angles.

“Somewhere near the Painted Desert in Arizona, in the American Southwest.  Middle of nowhere, actually.  Some meteor hunters found it barely buried under the sand.  They were using a cheap metal detector, so it’s possible there are other pieces out there that they didn’t detect.  They sold it to a collector who was trying to sell it on eBay as an Anasazi relic.”

“And Torchwood bought it?” he asked.

“Yes, about two years ago.  Torchwood has a feed from eBay.  We electronically scan the images for anything that may appear to be of extra-terrestrial origin.  This object was flagged in a scan, purchased, and then placed in the archives.  I found it a month ago and have been trying to decipher the writing on it.”

“You’d never successfully translate it, Hal.  It’s Gallifreyan,” he said with certainty.

“Is there enough there for you to translate it?” she asked excitedly.

“Hmmm, it’s quite a small fragment, but I can read enough of it to guess its purpose,” he muttered.  “It’s a plaque label from a console control lever for a neutronic awl.  It’s from a TARDIS, Hal.”

“A TARDIS, but not _your_ TARDIS, correct?”

“Oh, no, no, no… not my TARDIS.  A much later build, actually… not contemporaneous at all.  My TARDIS was a type 40 build.  She was very, very old when I… uhm… acquired her,” he said with a boyishly embarrassed smile.  “This fragment is from what I would hazard to be a type 55, Mark IV. I think it might have been a battle TARDIS, too!  Most explorer types weren’t equipped with neutronic awls.  How odd.”

“Can you date it?  We can’t seem to lock onto an age, since it’s not like we can use anything similar to carbon-dating for it.  We can’t calibrate radioisotope decay for a planet we’ve never seen,” Hal explained.  “But I’ve been working with Malcolm on determining the origin, and it is giving off an energy signature that places it in the Kasterborous system.”

“That’s brilliant work, Hal.  It would definitely match the energy signature from the Kasterborous system, because the base materials from which it was created came from a neighbouring planet to Gallifrey, called Karn.  Is that why you’ve been studying the Kasterborous system?  Because of this artefact?”

“Partially,” she answered with a wince.  “I’ve uncovered a sufficient body of evidence indicative of a catastrophic event that had consequences for the entire universe.  The epicentre seems to be the Kasterborous system.  The true epicentre within the Kasterborous system either doesn’t seem to have anything in it, or it is a body too small for us to locate with our current technology.”

The Doctor looked away, a wave of pain crossing his features.  “You were right about both,” he said sadly.  “Gallifrey is no more, and what is left of it wouldn’t be detectable by your instruments.”

“I know that now, and I’m so sorry,” Hal said in a soft voice.  “So that,” she indicated with a nod toward the plaque fragment in his hand, “is contemporaneous with the Time War?”

“It would have to be,” he replied.  “Battle TARDISes only existed twice in Gallifrey’s history:  The Dark Times and the Time War.  This wouldn’t have been lying on top of the ground if it were from the Dark Times.  That was 4.6 billion years ago, approximately.”

“And the Time War?”

He shrugged.  “Depends on your frame of reference, I suppose.  For this universe, it would have ended about 40 years ago.  In the other universe, about 25 years ago.  For me, it was a lot longer in my personal timeline.  I did a lot of running after the War.”

Hal hesitated, unsure if she should pursue much more discussion of the Time War.  The Doctor seemed to be sliding into a black mood with every word, but there were so many things she needed to know in order to put the pieces of the puzzle together.  Before she could formulate another question, the Doctor fixed her with a question in his eyes.

“Hal, how did you actually connect Time Lords with this event?  With Kasterborous?  With this fragment?”

Hal drew in a deep breath before answering.  “There were so many pieces of evidence, both in this universe and the other.  In this universe, some of the aliens that came through the Rift spoke of legends surrounding Time Lords.  Most weren’t complimentary, I’m afraid.  Many blamed the destruction of their planets on a Great War fought between two powerful races, and in their eyes they were just collateral damage; pawns on a cosmic chessboard.  Stars have been winking out over the last 40 years here, at a much higher rate than one might expect from normal star lifecycles.  Planets the scientists discovered in nearby systems wouldn’t be there the next time they looked.  I’ve plotted many of these changes and noticed they seemed to follow a wave pattern.  That wave pattern, when triangulated, appeared to point toward the Kasterborous system.”

“And in the other universe?” the Doctor asked, frowning.  “You heard of Time Lords even there?”

She nodded, appearing unsure of herself.

“How?” the Doctor demanded.  “There were very few Time Lords besides myself who ever bothered with humans.  Most Time Lords followed a strict code of non-interference.  The majority of humanity was never aware of the Time War.”

Swallowing hard, Hal gently took the TARDIS fragment from his hand and placed it back on the desk.  “Elly,” she said, gazing directly into his eyes.  “Elly told me of the Time Lords.  What I’m about to tell you may be difficult to believe.”

“Go on,” urged the Doctor.

“Elly told me that she met a Time Lord once when we were quite young.  She was about sixteen when a man walked up and sat next to her on a park bench.  He was quite tall; taller than you.  He had a head full of curls down to his shoulders, a big booming voice, and a mouthful of large teeth.  Even stranger, he was wearing a ridiculously long multi-coloured scarf in the middle of July.”

The Doctor’s eyes grew completely round at Hal’s description.  “Did he speak?” he squeaked.

“Oh, yes.  Offered her some jelly babies from a brown paper sack he was carrying in his pocket.  She’d never seen a jelly baby before, so she tried one and thought it was abysmal.  She made the mistake of telling him what she thought, and he got quite irate with her,” Hal laughed.

“Did he say what his name was?” asked the Doctor weakly.

“The Doctor.  He said his name was the Doctor,” Hal answered soberly.  She paused to let it sink in.

“No way,” the Doctor said.  “I don’t remember that.  I _told_ her I was a Time Lord?”

“How many people have you met in 900-plus years, Doctor?  Do you remember them all?  Would you remember a sombre sixteen year-old girl sitting on a park bench that you just decided to casually chat with on a summer day?  A sixteen year-old stupid ape on a planet full of stupid apes?  So what if you told her you were a Time Lord?  Do you think anyone would ever believe her?”

The Doctor bit off a retort when he saw a mist form in Hal’s eyes.

“No one believed her, Doctor.  Everyone said she had a wonderful imagination that sometimes got away with her.  I was the only one who believed.  She was so distraught over how she was treated that she wouldn’t talk about it even to me.”  Blotting her eyes on her sleeve, Hal sniffed deeply.  Touching the edge of the artefact, she continued.  

“About fifteen years later, the nightmares began.  I would have to wake her to keep her from inadvertently hurting herself.  She screamed almost every night for years.  She told me of this Great War that was happening all around us, and how no one seemed to be aware of it.  She kept saying that the Time Lords were losing.  I witnessed through our bond some of what she saw, and it defied description.   And then one day toward the end, she said the Time Lords were planning to end the entire universe and destroy all of creation.”

“The Ultimate Sanction,” the Doctor groaned, shamed by the actions of his people.

Hal nodded.  “For revealing that, she was prescribed tranquilizers and antidepressants, Doctor.  I convinced her to leave Earth and travel within the twenty-third century, and we discovered something interesting.  Time had been rewritten since the end of the War.  Many of the time-sensitive races we’d encountered in the past had disappeared, and no one remembered them.  Whole planets had been reduced to shattered rubble or burned out cinders.  Others were mysteriously unpopulated, as if no one had ever been there.  People and planets became no more than legends, if even a legend remained.  Cracks in the very fabric of Time-Space started to open up across the universe, including a plethora of wormholes and rifts.  The Time Lords themselves were only a legend, and we had no idea where to look for them.”

“The destruction of the Eye of Harmony and the Time Lords caused a rupture in the fabric of Time-Space that reached throughout the universe, Hal.  I don’t know why either of you would remember anything of the events before, because you weren’t at the heart of the event.  Perhaps clairvoyance conveys some protection, because the Ood and the Forest of Cheem also seemed to be able to retain knowledge that others had forgotten,” noted the Doctor.  “So, you have no evidence in this universe that Time Lords existed?”

“Which brings us back to this,” she said, picking up the plaque piece.  “Is this evidence that this universe had its own Time Lords and Time War, or did Time Lords exist only in our universe?  Did the TARDIS fragment originate here, or did it come from the other universe?  Apocryphal evidence such as legend doesn’t preclude Time Lords traveling from Prime to here.  Could it be possible that Time Lords never existed in this universe?”

“That’s a good question,” the Doctor answered.  “It’s one that I need to answer for myself.  But you say that you’ve uncovered evidence here in this universe of a wave pattern of damage cascading from Kasterborous, similar to that of Prime?”

Hal turned to one of her keyboards and pulled up two star charts on a monitor.  One featured a pattern of blue stars, the other red.  “This chart,” she pointed to the blue chart, “is the pattern of missing planets or people from Prime.  Luckily the data was on-board my ship and wasn’t corrupted.  The red chart is the pattern from Pete’s World, although it isn’t complete because I haven’t been able to chart some locations by traveling to them.”  She tapped a couple of keys to superimpose the two charts.  A scattering of purple dots formed an arch around a space devoid of stars.

The Doctor stood up and leaned over Hal’s shoulder to peruse the screen, pulling at his lower lip in concentration.  “Well, obviously there’s a strong correlation between the two,” he said.  “It could mean either one of two things:  The Time War either occurred here, too; or the events of the Time War in Prime cascaded throughout the multiverse to impact alternate worlds.  I’m more inclined to believe that it occurred simultaneously in both worlds.”

“Wouldn’t you know if Time Lords only existed in one universe?”

“Exactly,” he responded.  “Never did any inter-dimensional travel myself, but I would guess if we had existed in only one place, we would have crowed about it.  I don’t suppose you’ve run across any evidence of another Doctor here?”

“No, nothing at all,” Hal confirmed.  “And it makes sense, because Torchwood’s charter makes no reference to you at all.  Neither does UNIT have any records of you before the Battle of Canary Wharf.”

“I wonder…,” he said under his breath.  “Someone had to end the Time War here, if there was a War and I didn’t exist in Pete’s World.  What if I had a counterpart here?  One who wasn’t _me_ , who wasn’t called _the Doctor,_ yet who fulfilled the same role?”

“That’s a scary thought,” Hal commented with a soft laugh.  “Another Doctor who isn’t the Doctor, sort of like how a complementary species fills in the gaps?  Nature abhors a vacuum, according to Aristotle.”

“Precisely.  Rose didn’t exist here… except as a Yorkshire terrier named Rose,” he said, not noticing Hal’s attempts to stifle another laugh.  “No Rose, no Doctor.  No Doctor, no Jack Harkness… at least, no Jack at Torchwood.  Pete hasn’t been able to find him.  If he’d never met me, he would never be associated with Torchwood in this world.  Pete had to ultimately fill in that gap.”

Hal frowned slightly.  “Jack Harkness… he’s the guy in the World War II great coat?  Bright blue eyes?  Really drop-dead cute?” she added with a quick eyebrow flash.

“Oi!” the Doctor exclaimed.  “Is there a female anywhere in the multiverse who isn’t attracted to him?  And yes, that’s Jack.”

“Well, good thing I’m already spoken for,” grinned Hal.

“Eh?  W-what?” he sputtered.

“Let’s stick to work, Doctor,” she said as she took on a more serious expression.  “So where do we go from here?  I’ve only managed to sift through about a quarter of the archives.  I’m sure you’d be able to review the rest more quickly.”

The Doctor sighed and threw himself back down into his chair, clearly disappointed that Hal wasn’t about to expound on her earlier comment.  

“Oh, it’s so frustrating that we don’t have the ability to visit any other planets,” he sighed.  “We could clear up some of these mysteries right away, not to mention find a stable wormhole.  Which reminds me, I need to check to see if the TARDIS growth chamber is ready today.”

“I would suggest digging through the archives for additional remnants of the TARDIS or other related artefacts.  It might provide more clues.  Afterwards, perhaps a field trip to Arizona might be in order,” she said.

“Do we have an exact location for where the debris was found?” he asked, focusing again on the plaque fragment.

“As a matter of fact, we do,” smiled Hal.  “It just so happens that our intrepid meteor hunters marked the spot with GPS coordinates.”

“Brilliant!  I think we should ask Pete for permission right away.”

“Err, I would advise against that,” warned Hal.  “Protocol dictates that we go through the Field SIU department first.”

“And who might that be?”

“Rose Tyler,” Hal said, watching the Doctor’s reaction carefully.

“Oh,” he said softly after a beat.  He looked a bit stumped, as if he expected opposition from Rose.

“This is Torchwood business, Doctor,” Hal said sternly.  “You can’t break out in spots every time you have to talk to her, you know.”

“But I’m positive I can get permission from Pete, Hal!”

“And I’m positive that you will make Rose Tyler very unhappy if you violate protocol by going over her head, Doctor,” insisted Hal.  “If you think your interactions are strained now, I can assure you they will be far worse if you step on her toes professionally.”

He groaned, slumping down into his seat.  “So what do I need to do?”

“Let’s see if we can get onto her calendar this afternoon.  In the meantime, I’ll prepare a business case to take with us.  Thankfully, I’d already started working on one prior to your hire, so I’ll update it to reflect the new information you’ve provided.  It will strengthen our case, if nothing else.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said sincerely.  “Whatever would I do without you, Hal?”

“Probably bash your head against the institutional walls several times a day, undoubtedly.  Figuratively and literally,” she added, eyes glittering humorously.  “How many times have I saved your wretched hide already, not including this coming weekend?  Don’t think I’m not counting.”

“Buy you lunch?” he offered tentatively.

“Ugh, do you know how much I hate eating in the cafeteria?  It’s like sitting naked in a communal bath!” Hal groused in disgust.

“We can go somewhere quieter.  Let me check to see if Malcolm can come, and we can take my car to go somewhere nearby but with less people.”

“Check with me around 11.00, and I’ll let you know,” she said noncommittally.  The Doctor smiled, pleased to see she hadn’t turned him down outright.  “Where’s this TARDIS coral you keep telling me about, by the way,” she deflected once again.  He carefully pulled the piece from his pocket to show her, cradling it as if it were fragile.

Hal’s eyes widened as she took the orange-ish truncheon into her hand.  She gasped when she noticed it gave off a warmth of its own and glittered as she turned it slowly in the light.  “It’s… it’s really alive,” she said in wonder.

“Oh, yes,” said the Doctor proudly.

“I can hear it,” she whispered.  “It’s singing to me.”  Stroking it softly, she seemed to focus solely on the song the coral piece was singing to her.

“What do you hear?” he asked, mesmerized by Hal’s obvious connection to the TARDIS truncheon.

“It’s almost… not quite, though… sentient.  It’s giving me feelings, not thought.  It’s… lonely,” she said sadly.

“You felt that?  I never felt that from it,” the Doctor said, confused.  “I hear notes when I hold it, but I wouldn’t call it a song.”

“You should hold it more often, Doctor.  It has a song.  It’s very simple, monophonic; but it’s there.  How long does it take before it becomes sentient?”

Shrugging, the Doctor took the coral back from her and slipped it back into his pocket.  “I don’t really know.  Normally, it takes thousands of years to grow to maturity.  But Donna is brilliant and figured out how you can jumpstart the process if you shatterfry the plasmic shell and modify the dimensional stabiliser to a foldback harmonic of 36.3, thereby accelerating growth by the power of 59.  My best guess is that it will be within a year’s time.”

“You’ll need to bond with it then, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.  That’s why I asked for a spot here on this floor, so I can pop in whenever I feel like it to touch the TARDIS as it grows.”

“And Rose?  Won’t she need to bond with it, as well?” she asked carefully.

He sighed.  “Yes, if she ever hopes to pilot the TARDIS, it would be best.”

“You realize that she needs to be included in on your plans?  The sooner you do so, the better.  Don’t expect to spring things on her five years from now when the TARDIS is ready.  From what you’ve just told me, it sounds like you have less than a year to prepare her to bond with the baby TARDIS.”

“I know, I know…,” he said, gritting his teeth.  “How do I get a foot in the door, Hal?  She is more closed than I’ve ever known her to be.”

“Start by wearing the glasses Saturday,” Hal said with a grin.  “And now, get out of my office so I can get some work done.  We’ll talk at 11.00.”

Tromping down the corridor to a cul-de-sac at one end of the floor, the Doctor grumbled to himself about the emerging trend of women throwing him out of rooms.  He came to an unmarked area with a keypad and hand scanner next to the substantial door.  Several workmen were cleaning up as they prepared to leave.  Nodding congenially to them as they left, the Doctor stepped into the small area and looked around.  There were no windows in the room, but multiple pieces of equipment in boxes lined three walls.  In the middle of the room sat a huge Plexiglas tank sitting on a two-foot pedestal stand.  Taking the TARDIS coral from his pocket, he held it over the tank, which was large enough for him to sit in, had he been inclined.

“Look, baby TARDIS,” he chortled in a high-pitched voice as if talking to a child.  “Here’s your new nursery!  You’re going to love it in here.”

“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me,” came a gruff voice from the direction of the doorway.

Spinning around in surprise, the Doctor almost collided with Pete Tyler standing directly behind him.  A bright pink blush started creeping up to his hairline as he shoved the coral back into his pocket.  “Hi, Pete,” he squeaked with his trademark manic grin.

“Do I need to leave you two alone?” quipped Pete.

“Oh, no… just checking out the new living quarters for the TARDIS,” he said, trying to lower his voice a couple of octaves.  “It looks like the perfect spot, Pete.  Thank you!”

“Now, don’t think you can spend all your time here, Doctor.  You have to actually work sometimes, you know.  I’d have used the office next to yours, but it couldn’t be secured properly.”

“Having it on the same floor is absolutely brilliant, Pete.  No complaints there.  I can run right over anytime to check on it.”

“Excellent,” Pete said, reaching into his pocket to produce a slip of paper.  “Here’s the security PIN for the door.  It will lock in five seconds, so don’t dally about.  Right now the only two people who have access are you and me.  Let me know if you need to add additional access in the future.”

Reading the PIN and committing it to memory, the Doctor folded the slip of paper up neatly and placed it in his wallet.  “I really appreciate the additional water sprinklers in the room, too.  The TARDIS coral should be able to survive the heat of most fires, but the equipment may not.  It’s not like I can pop back over the Void to get more.”

“Can any of it be replicated?” Pete asked.

“Possibly, if I have access to some of Torchwood’s more sophisticated lab tools and equipment.”

“Then make sure you replicate the equipment you can and store it off-site.  We have a fireproof walk-in safe in the house that may do.”

“Good idea, Pete!” the Doctor said with a grin.

“Of course it’s a good idea,” Pete laughed.  “That’s why I’m the big chief.  Now, get to work going through those archives down in the basement.  I expect you to identify at least a third of that lot this week, you hear?”

The Doctor froze in shock.  “You mean I have _access_ to the archives now?”

“You’ve had it for almost a week, Doctor.”

“But no one _told_ me I had access!” the Doctor said in exasperation.

“Well, now that you’ve completed your new hire orientation and signed in blood that you know better, any bugger-ups and I get to tan your hide,” said Pete with a crooked grin.

“Awww, Pete,” the Doctor grinned back, “I really, really don’t tan all that well, as you’ve probably noticed.  Suppose I’d better carry that employee’s manual with me for a bit.”

“You do that, Doctor,” he said as he left.  “See you at dinner.”  Pete backed up.  “Oh yeah, I noticed a huge beef roast in the refrigerator this morning.”

The Doctor gave Pete the thumbs up sign as he left, thinking how amazingly lucky he was to be a member of the Tyler inner circle.  He used his mobile to check with Malcolm on availability for lunch, and then began work on setting up the equipment for the TARDIS growth tank.  At exactly 10.55 he stopped to admire his work.  To a casual observer, it would have appeared not unlike the props and set of a Frankenstein movie.  It had a dizzying array of tubing, pipettes, wiring and unrecognizable pieces of machinery attached to the empty tank.  Locking the door behind him, he strolled over to Hal’s office.

“There you are!” Hal exclaimed before grabbing a handful of printouts and heading for the door.  “Come on, I couldn’t find time on Rose’s calendar for this afternoon, so we have to go now.”

“W-what?  What, what?” the Doctor stammered as she ran past him.  Hal ran back and dragged him by the arm to the stairs. 

“We have to go now, while she’s got time for us to talk to her,” she explained as she pulled him down the corridor.  “I’ve completed the business case and printed it out.  Let me do most of the talking if you’re not mentally prepared.”

They raced down the stairs to the next floor, the Doctor sputtering an occasional protest along the way, which Hal blatantly ignored.  By the time they appeared at Rose’s office doorway, the Doctor was looking decidedly dishevelled and distracted.

“Hello!  Come on in,” Rose called to them.  She looked directly at the Doctor, who pulled himself up and tucked in his shirt, trying to make himself presentable now that he couldn’t avoid the situation.  Struggling to control his breathing, he sat on the sofa next to Hal.

“So, what can I do for you two,” Rose began.  She was the consummate professional, carefully composed features in a two-piece Brooks Brothers suit.  The Doctor turned to Hal, who was equally composed and at ease, in spite of the fact that the request and business case had originally been hers alone.

“We’d like to make a request for permission to conduct Field work, Rose,” Hal began. “The Doctor and I collaborated on a project I’d been working on with an artefact from the archives.  With the additional information the Doctor has been able to provide, I believe we have sufficient evidence to warrant a trip to locate additional artefacts in a potential debris field.”

Rose listened as she read the printout of their business case, frowning as she reached the second page.  The Doctor squirmed a bit at the appearance of the frown, anticipating the worse.

“You think the artefact is a piece of a TARDIS?!?” she asked with a questioning look.

“A-about 95% sure, Rose,” the Doctor finally spoke up, getting a nudge from Hal.  “It’s indisputably of Time Lord origin, however.  The writing on it is definitely Gallifreyan.”

She pinned the Doctor with a stern look that caused him to squirm uncomfortably until he dropped his gaze to his feet.

“How much does she know?  About you?” Rose asked.

“Everything,” he replied with a challenging look back.  Rose seemed to consider this, several emotions flitting across her face before she turned again to the document.

“The location is quite remote, I see,” she noted neutrally.  “The closest town of any significant population is over 25 miles away.  You’ll probably need to camp out unless you want to spend all day traveling back and forth to the location.”

Hal nodded to take over the conversation.  “I provided an estimate of expenses based on setting up a base camp, including rental of a Land Rover or Jeep and transportation of Field equipment from Torchwood and/or UNIT.  We’ll need equipment that won’t be readily available on location.  For the time being we’re estimating about two weeks duration, unless we make a very significant find.”

“When were you hoping to leave?”

“Sometime within the next three weeks, if it can be arranged,” Hal stated.

Rose nodded approvingly as she flipped to the last page of the document.  “Very thorough, Hal.  Give me a couple of days to review this with some of my Field operatives and obtain Pete’s approval, and I’ll get back to you with a final determination.  But it looks good on first glance.”

The Doctor’s mouth dropped open slightly as he stared at Rose, wondering if he’d heard her correctly.

“Somethin’ wrong, Doctor?” Rose asked with a slight tilt of her head.

_Oh, Great Rassilon, she just called me “Doctor,”_ he thought, eyes widened.

_Oh, for crying out loud.  Don’t screw this up!  This is work, not personal,_ Hal’s voice cut through soundlessly.

He jumped at the crack of the telepathic voice reverberating in his head.  He stared at Hal, wondering how she had managed to communicate telepathically with him without touch, and was about to ask her aloud when Rose brought him back to reality.

“Doctor?  Are you alright?”

He gulped.  “Uhm, yeah.  I’m always alright.  Just a little overwhelmed by the idea that this is my first Field mission, is all,” he replied with a weak grin.

“Yeah?” Rose said with a little coquettish smile.  “Think you’re ready to spend two weeks inna tent with a coupla women?”

“Two… two… women?” he said breathily, suddenly afraid his respiratory bypass would kick in at any second.

“Can’t send two researchers out in the Field without an experienced Field Operative goin’ along, you know,” Rose responded.

“But who…,” he started saying before Hal kicked out to the side with her foot, catching him in the ankle.

“Oops, sorry about that,” Hal said rather unconvincingly.  “I’ll review Field travel protocols with the Doctor prior to our trip, Rose.  He’ll be ready by end of next week,” she assured Rose.

“How’s the TARDIS coral project goin’, Doctor?” Rose asked casually.

“It’s fantastic, Rose,” he answered quickly.  “I’m setting up the equipment today, and hope to get the nutrient solution mixed into the tank by evening.  Would you like to see the new growth chamber?”

“Love to,” she said.  “Perhaps once you’ve installed the coral, I can come by for a lit’l peek at your new baby.”

“I’d really like that, Rose,” the Doctor replied hopefully.  “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

Rose checked her watch meaningfully to indicate she was running out of time.  “Oh, my… my next appointment is comin’ up already.  No rest for the wicked, eh?”

“No lunch break?” Hal asked.

“Not today, I’m afraid.  Too much to do.”

“Well, thanks for giving up your only opportunity for lunch to talk with us, Rose,” Hal said with a look of regret.

“No problem a’tall,” Rose responded with a smile.  “I’m so glad you brought this to my attention, ‘cause it’s the most excitin’ news I’ve heard in months.”

Excusing themselves and thanking Rose again, Hal and the Doctor walked quickly out of Rose’s office to find someone standing outside her doorway waiting.  Making their way up the stairs to their offices, the Doctor stopped on the first landing.

“Hal, how did you speak to me telepathically in Rose’s office?”  He seemed troubled by the fact.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized.  “It must have been reflex.  I got used to doing it with Elly.  We were almost in constant communication, so I never really thought about it.  It would just happen.”

“But I had my mental shields intact and I didn’t feel any resistance.  It was like… you were suddenly _just there_.”

Hal dropped her gaze, a pink flush crept into her cheeks.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.  It’s just that… your mental shields are now… transparent to me.”

“What?”

“It’s not that I hear your thoughts all the time,” she answered quickly.  “But if you are feeling strong emotions and I’m close by, sometimes the emotion and thought will leak through.”

“But what about your shields?” asked the Doctor.  “How are my emotions and thoughts passing through?”

Hal sighed.  “Apparently, it’s both ways, Doctor.  Mine are semi-transparent to you, as well.”

“But I feel nothing, hear nothing, from you!”

“It’s because you’re primarily a touch telepath, Doctor.”

“Ooooh,” he drawled.  “I get it now.  If I were to touch you... “

She nodded.  “Somewhat.  You haven’t made the depth of connection to my mind, as I did with yours.  You would only connect with the surface thoughts and emotions, over which I have fairly good control.”

“Hence, I still felt little or nothing when I hugged you last weekend.  But I bet you got quite a psychic blast!”

“Yup,” Hal said with a wry smile.

“But can I _deliberately_ send conscious thought to you?  Ooooh, that would be so cool if I could send you, like, a psychic telegraph!  It could come in handy, even.  Just imagine…”

Hal raised her hand to stop him.  “Oh, I can only imagine, Doctor.  Yes, you could do that… with practice.  Let me get used to you calling my mobile at all hours first, ok?”

“Oh, I need to call Malcolm,” he suddenly exclaimed.  “He’s supposed to join us for lunch.”

“I dunno, Doctor.  I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and…”

“Oh, come on, Hal,” he pleaded.  “I owe you again for getting me through that meeting with Rose!”

“Doctor, she doesn’t seem to be anywhere close to the ogre you seem to think she is.  She was perfectly normal in that meeting.  There was no hostility coming from her at all.”

“Really?” the Doctor said, surprised.

“She was honestly shocked that I knew as much as I did about you.  And admittedly, she was just a tiny bit jealous of that.  But no hostility whatsoever,” Hal reassured him as she headed for the stairway exit.

“Then something’s changed,” he said as he followed her into the corridor.

“That’s probably because you wore these,” she grinned, tapping an arm of his glasses.

“Oh, yeah, I did, didn’t I?  You really think they made a difference?” he preened.

“You’re positively _twee,_ Doctor.  How can she resist?”

“Am not,” he protested with a pout.  “But who’s the other woman going with us?  Some stuffy Torchwood bureaucrat who will second guess every step we take?”

“Well, _duh,_ ” Hal said, rolling her eyes.  “For a Time Lord, you sure can be a dumb-ass sometimes.  It’s _Rose_ , you knucklehead.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“What else did you pick up from her?” the Doctor asked as he draped himself over her sofa.

“It's not like I did a mind probe on her, Doctor.  I just knew she was thinking about herself when she mentioned the two women.”

“Sooo,” he drawled, “I get to spend two weeks camping in a tent with two lovely ladies!” he grinned.  “Definitely cause for a celebration.  Sounds like a two martini lunch to me.”

“Great.  Now I have two future events to dread instead of one.  I may need more than two martinis to get through the next month,” Hal sighed.  “I’ll get my keys.”


	18. Need to Know, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor (Ten II) sets up the TARDIS growth chamber. Hal reveals some quirky secrets and struggles over whether to tell Rose about her origins.

A gentle rap at the door roused the Doctor from his absent-minded puttering with the shatter-fry generator.  He placed his sonic screwdriver on a bench and opened the door.

“How’s it goin’?” asked Hal, who stood on the other side of the door with hands in her lab coat pockets.

“She,” he said as he broke into a huge grin, waving Hal into the TARDIS growth room.  “ _She’s_ doing just fantastic!”

Hal stepped across the threshold and paused.  “Wow, Frankenstein’s lab is becoming more impressive by the minute.  I expect Elsa Lanchester to sit up in the tank any minute.”

“Hmmm, growing my own wife in a lab,” mused the Doctor.  “Now there’s an idea I never considered.  Couldn’t turn out worse than an arranged marriage, that’s for sure.”  Turning to pick up his sonic to make more adjustments, he pulled out his chair for Hal to sit in.  He noticed a shadow of a frown as she sat down.

“Not a fan of marriage?” he asked, hoping to draw the petite scientist out.

She shrugged.  “Nothing against marriage, per se,” she replied.  “Marriage for love isn’t always that much of a picnic, either.”

Deliberately turning his attention back to the equipment, the Doctor spoke softly, as if a louder voice might frighten Hal off the delicate subject.  “You speak as if from experience,” he said without looking at her.

“Yeah,” she said, inflectionless.

“In the other universe, I gather.”

“Oh, yeah.  I was quite young, actually,” she responded after a deep breath.  “Lasted all of six months.  Never even bonded.  He left one day and joined a pleasure ship full of ladies of the evening.  Took me a decade to track him down and get it annulled.  At least he had the good graces to get himself killed by a jealous husband.”

“Blimey,” he said breathily, looking back at Hal in surprise.  “But you’re in a relationship now?  With someone here?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head.  “I’m betrothed to… someone in the other world.  Please keep this to yourself, though.”

He paused perplexed, thinking for a minute.  “But that wasn’t in the psychic transfer you gave me.  Why wouldn’t you have included him… or her?”

Hal burst into a laugh.  “Him!” she chuckled.  “And I never talk about such things to anyone.  How do you mention a fiancé that no one will ever see?  I didn’t want to have to answer a lot of difficult questions.”

“Oh,” he muttered.  “I suppose that’s why you don’t wear a… ring, or something?”

Reaching under her collar, Hal pulled at a gold chain about her neck.  He’d noticed the glint of the gold against her neck on occasion, but she never wore it on the outside of her shirt for him to see it in its entirety.  As the chain emerged, he saw it was laced through a tiffany style ring with a large bluish stone setting.  It appeared to be about three carets in size.  She held the ring up to him, still attached to the chain around her neck.

The Doctor whipped out his glasses from his lab coat pocket to take a closer look.  He whistled.  “Oh, wow… that is just gorgeous,” he said in admiration.  “Sapphire?  Oh, wait… no… that’s a blue diamond!”

“From Altair VII,” she nodded.  “Indigo blue hues in natural diamonds are extremely rare on Earth.  On Altair VII they are a bit more attainable.  This one is flawless, something that is rare even for Altair VII.  He said that it reminded him of the colour of my eyes.”

“I can see that.  Oh, what an absolute pity you don’t wear it where it can be seen, Hal.  It’s easily one of the most beautiful gems I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

She dropped the ring into her shirt again, and patted it down.  “I don’t need even more of a reminder of how much I’ve lost, Doctor.”

“He must love you very much.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize you had more than your family to get back to.”

She cast her eyes to the floor.  “He adores me, and he’s a great friend.  My best friend outside of the family.  My only friend, really,” she trailed off with a vacant look.

The Doctor leaned against the tank, arms crossed as he tried to figure out what wasn’t being said, his sonic dangling loosely from his fingers.  “Do you love him?” he asked rather rudely.

Hal shrugged again, eyes rolling a bit.  “Told you, marrying for love isn’t a guarantee of success.”

“Why, for Rassilon’s sake, would you agree to marry someone you don’t love?  Never mind if he _adores_ you,” the Doctor said, slightly put out.  

“You probably wouldn’t approve, or just laugh,” she said, and chewed on her lip.

“I won’t laugh or judge,” he promised with his hand and sonic in the air in a Boy Scout salute.

She sighed.  “It was sort of… arranged.  By my family.”  She saw the look of horror creep over him.  “I told you, I really, really _suck_ at relationships!” she blurted.  “He’s quiet, calm, super-intelligent and wouldn’t harm a flea.  He’s about the only person who could possibly put up with my quirks or keep up with me intellectually.  And… and… and my family adores him, too.”

“So, everyone is in love with him, but you.  What’s wrong with him?”

“Uhm.  Well.  He’s… he’s sort of… mind blind,” she said so low that he almost couldn’t hear her.

“Completely?  Come on, is he non-sentient?  A rock?  Even non-telepathic humans can usually communicate with a strong telepath on some level.”

“He’s sentient, but not human.”

The Doctor stared at her expectantly.  “Well, he’s… he’s… so not human,” she said haltingly.  “An android, really.”  The Doctor’s jaw dropped, along with his sonic.

“ _What?!?,_ ” he yelped a little angrily.  “Your family bought you an android for a husband?!?”

“No, no,” Hal said, shaking her head rapidly.  She jumped up from her seat, scooping up the sonic to  hand back to the Doctor.   “They didn’t _buy_ him.  He’s fully sentient and qualifies as a life form.  Legally he is recognized as an autonomous individual.”

“But an _android,_ Hal?  _Really?_ Androids aren’t something you marry… they’re like… I dunno… tools!” he cried, holding up his sonic screwdriver as an example.

“So are some _men_ , Doctor,” she retorted, face suddenly very stony.  “And I thought you weren’t gonna judge?”  

Shoving the sonic and both hands back into his pockets, the Doctor rocked on his feet.  His face softened a bit as he thought.  “Sorry,” he said, lowering his voice.  “I did say I wouldn’t do that, didn’t I?  A bit of a shock, that was.”

“Well, there are a lot of advantages, you know,” she said a little defensively.  “I don’t have to deal with the drama of someone else’s emotional baggage, and he doesn’t have to deal with mine.  I don’t have to worry about him running off with a ship full of trollops.  If he talks too much, which he sometimes tends to do, I can pull his head right off and put it into a box for a while.  Works fine after I put it back on.”

“You’re barmy,” he said, albeit with little smile.

“I _told_ you that already!  And were all Time Lords as intolerant as you seem to be, at least about synthetic humanoids?”

He shut his mouth with a loud click, before shuffling his feet like a schoolboy.  “Worse, really,” he admitted contritely.  “You’re the second person to point that out recently.  I wasn’t too nice to my friend, Jack, either.  Called him ‘wrong’ when he became immortal and a fixed point in time.  To a Time Lord, he was plain unnatural.  Suppose I need to work on that.”

“Don’t suppose you were too thrilled about becoming partially human, either,” Hal noted with some sympathy.

He gave her a self-deprecating grin.  “Nope,” he said with a loud pop.  “Think I said something like ‘that’s disgusting’ when I realized I had only one heart.  Almost killed myself trying to stay awake the first few weeks, completely in denial.  Worst of all, I almost permanently damaged myself rolling over in bed a few mornings, totally forgetting that some things are controlled by the autonomic system in humans!”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, unsure what to say after the Doctor’s stream-of-consciousness ramblings, and then both broke into uncontrollable peals of laughter.

“I’m so sorry, Hal,” he gasped.  “I’m a right git sometimes, I know.  Thanks for keeping me honest.”

“Actually, I reacted in much the same way about synthetic life forms at first,” she said with a blush.  “Had the unmitigated gall to call Daryl _‘the Tin Man’_ a few times when we first met.”

“Do you think he’ll wait for you, however long it takes to get back?  If the TARDIS matures on schedule, you’ll have been here ten years.”

“He’ll wait,” she said, nodding.  “As long as he knows I’m alive, he’ll wait.”

“But you’ll never know the joy of a marriage bond.  And what about children, Hal?”

She made a face.  “Ew, children.  Little walking petri dishes of microbial activity with stuff spewing out of both ends?  No thanks.  Nieces and nephews are fine, ‘cause I can hand them back to Elly when I grow tired of them.  I think the maternal nurturing gene were lost somewhere in the eugenics lab.  And a marriage bond?  I can live without a marriage bond.  I have my sibling bond, and that will have to be enough for me.”

“If you say so,” said the Doctor, unconvinced.

“Well then, are you done with this round of dissection?  I came to see the coral?”

“Ah yes!  My baby girl TARDIS,” he said as he sprang away from the tank.

“Why’s the nutrient solution kinda purple?” Hal asked.

“Titrated potassium permanganate,” he responded.  “One of the trace nutrients needed by the coral as she grows.  She’s already starting to bud!”

Hal crouched down next to the tank, trying to see through the somewhat murky solution.  “You stuck her in some sand?  To stabilize her?”

“Right.  No other reason.  Keeps her from floating around in eddies created by the filter pump.”

“She looks like a sea squirt,” Hal remarked.

“Oi,” laughed the Doctor.  “That is a highly evolved life form, I’ll have you know!  Sea cucumbers are about as primitive a life form as they come.”

“Can I touch her?”

“Of course,” he said.  “The potassium permanganate may stain your clothing, mind.”  He brought over a box for Hal to stand on, since the top of the tank came slightly above the diminutive researcher’s waist.

She stripped off her lab coat and tossed it onto the chair.  “Good thing I’m wearing a purple shirt,” she grinned, shoving the sleeves up above her elbows.  Climbing onto the box, she bent over and was just barely able to stroke the coral as it stood upright in a bed of sandy material when the box tipped.  Hal gave a surprised squeak as she tilted headlong toward the solution.  Moving so quickly he was a blur, the Doctor grabbed Hal about the waist and hoisted her up before the solution reached to her shoulders.  

Slipping on the wet floor from the solution Hal slung about in panic, they both went down in a heap with Hal sitting astraddle the Doctor’s lap facing his feet.  They were both giggling so hard that they never heard the knock on the open lab door.

“Ahem,” said Rose, clearing her voice.  She stood next to the open door with her arms crossed, cheeks reddened in what the Doctor hoped was embarrassment for the two of them.  Rather than scramble to their feet, Hal and the Doctor descended further into fits of tearful hysterics before Hal was able to roll herself off the Doctor, gasping for breath.

“Rose!” the Doctor choked out, trying hard to compose himself.  “You’re finally here!  Do you wanna see the baby TARDIS?  Just don’t do what she did and fall in with her.”

Finally rising to her feet, Hal gasped for breath and tried to finger-comb her dishevelled hair back into place.  Wiping tears from her eyes, she grinned.  “I was just trying to touch it,” she laughed.

“Her!” hissed the Doctor as he sprang to his feet.

“Oh yeah, _her_ ,” Hal gulped, eyes wide and suddenly serious.

“I see,” Rose said, staring down the Doctor.

They both stepped aside as Rose walked over to the tank to peer in.  “Looks like a sea cucumber stuck in the sand like that,” she remarked.  Hal shot the Doctor a look of vindication.

“Ahem… urr, yes, I guess it does,” the Doctor replied, pulling at his tie to loosen it.  “Would you like to touch it, too?”  He got a sharp elbow in the ribs from Hal.  “ _HER_ ,” he yelped in pain.  “Would you care to touch the _TARDIS coral_ , Rose?  I could find a better box for you to stand on, ‘though you may not actually _need_ a box, seein’ that you’re a bit taller and such.”  A glare from Hal sent him into full Oncoming Lecture mode.

“Thankfully, the nutrient solution is kept at a constant 30.7 degrees Celsius or it would have been quite uncomfortable for poor Hal.  The purple colour in the nutrient solution is titrated potassium permanganate, which the TARDIS coral needs for her growth cycles.  Unfortunately, it stains a bit so you don’t want to stay in contact with it for too long.   A new burst of growth can be expected every…”

“’s ok, Doctor,” Rose said with her palms up.  “I don’t need to touch her right now.  Maybe when she’s a bit bigger, yeah?”

“Absolutely,” he chirped, clapping his hands together.  “Anytime you like.”

“Primarily came to tell you that I got final approval for your Field project.  You can start travel arrangements whenever you like.  Jus’ let me know, ‘cause I’ll be accompanyin’ you,” Rose told them.

“Oh, that’s fantastic, Rose!” Hal exclaimed excitedly.  “Thank you so much.  We’re very eager to find additional fragments for analysis.  We’ve not found any additional artefacts in the archives that we can relate to the one we have on hand.”

“How much of the archives have you gone through this week?” Rose asked the Doctor, who had turned a shade paler at the announcement that Rose would be joining them.  His freckles had jumped out in stark relief against his naturally light skin.

“Hal was kind enough to assist me in sorting through the lot, and so far we’ve managed to identify and properly classify three quarters of the archives.  Quite a few we deemed rather dangerous and had moved to the vault.  Hal’s knowledge of weaponry almost exceeds my own,” he said proudly.

“At least I don’t have to lick every weapon I come across to identify it,” Hal snorted.

“He does that,” Rose said with a grin, crinkling her nose.

_“Oi!_   I didn’t lick them _all,_ ” said the Doctor rather lamely.  A warm feeling of hope spread through his chest at Rose’s comment.  _Is she finally accepting that I’m really the Doctor,_ he wondered.

Mixed feelings coursed through the Doctor as he contemplated two weeks camping with Rose.  On one hand he was elated.  Rose had worked so hard to keep him at arm’s length for months.  The thought of spending an unbroken stretch of two weeks with her made him want to whoop with joy.  On the other hand, he was fearful of a complete and utter failure in reconnecting with her, and the very thought destroyed him.

“Pete ought to be happy about that,” said Rose.  “About the clearance of the archive, not the licking,” she clarified, her tongue peeking out between her teeth.  She turned to Hal, who had retrieved her coat and was putting it back on.  “So, are ya comin’ to the Torchwood party tomorrow, Hal?”

“Actually, I think I am,” she replied with a smile.  “And I believe we’ve convinced Malcolm to come this time, as well.”

Rose’s eyes widened.  “Malcolm?” she said in astonishment.  “Malcolm Taylor?  His mum is really gonna let him go?  Or didya use blackmail?”

“No blackmail,” said the Doctor, amused.  “We promised to take him to lunch where here can get a cheeseburger and chips every day for two weeks.”

“Well, tell him I’m pretty sure Pete will have burgers at the party.  Loves his red meat, that man.  I’ll see you both tomorrow, then,” Rose said as she left.

Letting out a loud sigh of relief, the Doctor removed his glasses and placed them back into his lab coat, now splotched with light purple watermark stains.

“See,” smiled Hal cheekily.  “Told you the brainy specs would get you somewhere.  I’d suggest you get a pair of sunglasses just like them to take onsite.  You’ll definitely need sun protection, anyway.”

He smiled, marvelling at how a pair of simple glasses could become an instrument of subtle seduction.  His smile quickly slid into a pout.

“No sunscreen or suntan lotion!” he growled.  “What is with that nasty coconutty, sorta pineapply smell, anyway?  And why can’t someone make one that doesn’t feel like you’ve coated yourself in lard?  They’re both absolutely abhorrent and disgusting.”

“But necessary in the Southwest in Springtime.”

“I’d rather slather on Dalek slime!” the Doctor spat.

“Sorry, I think we’re fresh out of Dalek slime.  I’ll pick up a case of my favourite brand before we go.  It’s not quite as icky as the standard Torchwood issue,” Hal said with an eye roll.

“Don’t bother… won’t wear it.  Been on planets with far hotter suns.  Never once got sunburned,” he retorted obstinately.

“Were you half-human at the time?” Hal asked, hand on hip.

He rubbed his neck in frustration, trying to think of a suitable return.

“Thought so,” she sighed as she headed for the door.  “Still picking me up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah... right at 3.30.  Don’t forget your jimjams,” he said with a boyish grin.

“Right… pyjama party… can’t wait,” she said sardonically as she closed the door to the lab behind her.

###################################################

Hal seemed quite skittish on arrival to the mansion.  They were at least an hour and a half ahead of the start of the party, but the thought of facing approximately fifty people for several hours filled her with dread.  Dressed in a pair of denims, a light-blue linen blouse and trainers, she carried a duffle bag slung across her shoulder as she entered from the garage.  Almost hiding behind the Doctor’s tall frame, she wasn’t visible from Jackie’s perspective.

“Where’s your friend?” Jackie asked, looking a bit puzzled.  “I thought you went to pick her up!”

Hal leaned slightly to peer around the Doctor as he twisted aside a bit.  “Hello,” she said meekly with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, come here, dearie.  Don’t be shy,” Jackie said consolingly, taking Hal by the arm to draw her further into the hallway.  She noted the bag hanging from her shoulder and glared at the Doctor.  “Oi, you prat!  Don’t you know to carry a lady’s bag for her?  What’s wrong with you?” she snapped, giving him a half-hearted backhand swat on the arm.

“That’s ok, Mrs. Tyler,” responded Hal.  “I’m used to carrying my own bags.”

“Nonsense,” Jackie sniffed.  “He’s gonna learn how to treat a real lady if I hafta beat it into ‘im.”  The Doctor took Hal’s duffle and retreated out of Jackie’s reach before she could whack him again.

“Upstairs?” he asked Jackie.

“Yeah, let me show you were you’ll be stayin’,” Jackie told Hal graciously as she lead them up the stairs.  “Most of the guest rooms are in another wing, but I thought you might like to be a bit out of the way of the… uhm, inebriated,” she said apologetically.

“Oh, so you’re staying down there, too?” the Doctor barbed, running up the stairs before Jackie could reach him.

“Pay him no mind,” Jackie advised her.  “He’s completely off his head.  Always has been.”  She leaned closer to Hal and lowered her voice.  “He’s like a son to me, though.  Love him to bits, but don’t ever tell him I said so.  Head’s big enough as it is.”

“I heard that!” the Doctor’s voice drifted down from one of the bedrooms.  Jackie rolled her eyes.

“I know he’s not completely human,” said Hal softly.  “He’s told me a lot about him, but his secret is safe with me.”

“Big 904 year-old kid, he is,” she nodded.  “I’m so happy he’s found someone to trust, ‘cause he really needs someone. “  She looked up to see if the Doctor was in view.  “But don’t ever make ‘im properly cross.  He can be fully scary,” Jackie whispered with a fearful look. 

The Doctor’s head appeared over the stair rails at the end of the hall.  “What’s takin’ you two so long?  I’m gettin’ old up here!”

Hal and Jackie giggled as they joined him at the doorway.  Hal stepped inside and hummed in approval at the large bedroom with en suite bathroom.  “Very nice, Mrs. Tyler.  Thank you,” she said.

“It’s Jackie, please.  We don’t put on any airs around here.  And the Doctor’s bedroom is down at the other end.  Feel free to knock him up if you need anything.”

Hal’s eyebrow flicked up to her hairline, giving the Doctor a very quirky half-smile of amusement as he flushed a bright pink.

“We’ll see you soon,” he told Jackie as she scampered down the hallway to check on the preparations.

He turned around to take a look at the guest room.  “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room,” he noted.  “It’s nicer than my room!”  He crossed the room to throw open the doors to the balcony.  “Look, you’ll have a nice place to sit and avoid the crowd, if you want.”

“Oh, I suppose,” she said.  “Although, it would probably be a bit rude to hole up in the bedroom during the party.”

The Doctor gave her a huge grin.  “I know just the place!” he said, grasping Hal’s hand and pulling her out of the room and down the stairs.  Stopping in front of the library doors, he swung them open dramatically and escorted her in.  Hal took one look at the sofas and chairs, turning slowly around to view the towering bookcases, and suddenly relaxed.

“Wonderful.  This reminds me of the library back home,” she said wistfully.  

“Brilliant!  If things get a little too intense for you, we can come here where it’s a bit quieter.”

Hal sat down heavily, a thoughtful look crossing her features as she stared up at the Doctor.  “We need to talk,” she said in a small voice.

He sat down next to her, a bit worried at the seriousness of Hal’s demeanour.  “What is it, Hal?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she said.  “What if we talk to Rose before we tell Pete about me tomorrow?  Whenever I think of telling Pete, but not telling her, I start feeling a little unsettled.  How do you think she’ll feel if she finds out Pete knew before she did?”

He thought about this for a second or two, rubbing the back of his head as if it helped him think.  He looked at Hal again, a little uncertain.  “I dunno.  Are you sure you want to do that, Hal?  I mean, I think it would be a good thing, but I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with...  Except come to a Torchwood party, perhaps.  Or go out to lunch every day.  Or sing karaoke with me in the Great Hall tonight…”

“Not singin’ karaoke, Doctor,” she insisted, scrunching up her face.  

“Oh, come on…”

“No,” she said with finality.  “I sing, but _never_ karaoke.  Karaoke is just _stupid_.  With drunks, it’s downright mortifying.  But let’s get back to Rose.”

“Right, right,” he muttered, a tad disappointed.  “Would it help if we both talk to her, together?  I mean, we could bring her here at some point.”

Hal chewed on her lip, deep in thought.  “Perhaps.  I’m not sure.  Maybe I can have a little one-on-one chat first, and see how it goes.  If she doesn’t react negatively, then perhaps we can tell her together.  I’d rather clear the air with her first, to let her know I’m not a threat.”

“A threat?” he asked with a grimace.  Hal pulled the chain around her neck to dangle the ring in front of him.  “Oh,” he nodded with understanding.  “Right.  But I’m still not convinced she’s the least bit interested in me as more than maybe, and that’s a big maybe, a friend.  Would she even care if you’re engaged?”

Hal let out a big huff of air.  She leaned slightly forward and thumped the Doctor in the middle of his forehead.  “Still thick, I see,” she drawled.

“Ow!” whined the Doctor, pressing his hand to the spot, and then checking it as if for blood.  “Bloody hell, woman.  What was that?”

“Ahaa, I finally knocked Donna loose!” snickered Hal.  “It’s about time you let her out of the cabinet.”

“What?”

“Since when have you started using swear words, Doctor?” Hal smirked, with her arms crossed.

“Since some barmy blob woman started thumpin’ me in the flippin’ forehead!” he shouted back.  Suddenly realizing what he’d said, his eyes widened and he slapped both hands over his mouth in horror.

“Blob woman,” Hal repeated, eyes narrowing.  “Ok, I’ll let you slide _this once_ , Timeboy.”

A look of utter devastation came over the Doctor.  “That’s what she used to call me,” he said.  “Donna used to call me _Timeboy_ and _Spaceman._  You remind me a lot of her, sometimes.  I miss her so much, Hal.  And I never told her how much she meant to me.  Never told anyone how I really felt.”

“You’ve always been sort of chatty with me,” Hal said softly.

“Nah.  Never used to do that.  Never talked about myself.  It must be Donna’s influence.”

“I don’t think you talk about your feelings all that much, at least not _to_ the people for whom you have feelings.  Donna may be able to help you there,” suggested Hal.  “She can help you make this transition, if you’ll let her.  Don’t keep her locked away all of the time.  She’s up there for a reason,” she said, tapping him gently on the head.

“But who’s going to help you, Hal?”

Hal looked askance and sighed, but didn’t respond.  “You’re as locked away as tightly as I ever was; maybe more,” he noted.

“I’m alright,” she said, still looking away.

“Yeah, just like I’m always alright,” he said sagely.

“You are where you belong and where you will stay, Doctor.  You must make a transition.  I will be going back, no matter how long it takes.  Once I am home, I will truly be alright.  I can’t afford to let myself become too attached to anything, anyone, in this world.  If I were to bond to anyone on this side of the Void, it would be… devastating… once I returned.  Surely you must understand what I’m saying?”

“What I’m finally understanding, Hal, is that I let the fear of pain and loss keep me at arm’s length from the people I loved, and who loved me.  And when I lost them, the pain wasn’t any less.  After a millennium of losses, most of what I have left is regret.”

“If you make me sing karaoke, you’re gonna have one more regret to throw on the stack, brother,” Hal digressed snarkily.

The Doctor nodded in concession, thinking of how he’d dearly love to have a sister the likes of Hal.  He stood up and wiggled his fingers invitingly to her, hoping she would snap out of her guarded moment and accept his invitation to join the party.  She glanced at his hand and hesitated momentarily before reaching up.  He grasped her slim fingers tightly and laughed, pulling her up to start running out of the room and into the hallways with him.

The Tyler Great Hall was truly a sight to behold with its festive decorations, long rows of tables laden with food, and a stage in the back.  Beautifully set round tables draped in starched linens partially encircled an open area in front of the stage, presumably for dancing.  A baby grand piano sat next to one of the walls, drawing Hal’s attention almost immediately.

“Oooh, look!  Nibbles!” the Doctor spouted gleefully.  He hardly noticed his companion had disappeared and was making her way to the piano.  Malcolm Taylor rushed over and started pumping his hand enthusiastically.  In his other hand was a plate piled high with two burgers and a load of chips.  “Malcolm, you actually made it!  Did you bring your Mum?” the Doctor greeted.

“Oh, nooo, Doctor!  I wouldn’t have these had she come,” the little Welshman said, holding up the plate of taboo foodstuff.  “Said I was goin’ to a place of ill-repute, she did.”

The Doctor shook his head and laughed.  “Sometimes I think we were switched at birth, Malcolm my boy.  Glad to see you’ve escaped the cradle!”

A sharp clap to his back startled him as he turned to see a broadly grinning Jake Simmonds behind him.  “Jakie!” he said happily, giving the man a tight hug.

“Hallo, Doctor,” Jake said.  “Where’s your twin off to?  I ‘ere you’ve picked up a shadow since I saw ya last.”

“Hal?  Well, she’s right… Hold on,” he frowned, twisting about to see where Hal went.  “Well, she was right here,” he muttered.  “Always have that problem of companions wandering off, you know.”

“There she is,” pointed Malcolm with a nod of his head toward the piano.  “Looks like she’s talkin’ to Ms. Tyler and playin’ the piano.  She did mention this week that she plays keyboards.  Maybe she’ll play a bit for us tonight!”

“Hhmmm,” hummed the Doctor.  “Let’s give them a little time to talk first, and then we’ll ask her, ok?”

“Evenin’, gentlemen,” they all heard behind them.  Pete Tyler was standing next to Jake holding two glasses of whiskey, appearing to have started the party early.

“Double-fistin’ it tonight, eh, Pete?” grinned Jake.

“Damn right,” he responded with a big smile.  “Karaoke on the agenda.  Gotta get liquored up for that one.”

“You’re singing?” asked the Doctor, surprised.

“Oh, no way.  I gotta get liquored up to _listen_ to it,” laughed Pete.  “You ever hear Jackie sing after a few snorts?”  He drained one of the glasses and placed it on a tray held by one of the servants, who immediately handed him another full glass as if on cue.  Pete, the Doctor and Jake all laughed loudly, while Malcolm just smiled politely.

Hal was about halfway through the _Moonlight Sonata_ , playing softly so as not to bring attention to herself.  Sipping slowly on a beer, Rose leaned against the piano and watched.  Hal shifted her gaze to the stage every now and then as a DJ set up his equipment in preparation.

“You play beautifully,” Rose told her.

“Thank you,” Hal replied with a weak smile.  “I was trained as a concert pianist when I was quite young.”

“Oh, where was that?”

“A little school you wouldn’t have heard of before,” Hal said.  “Just as well, since I prefer to play classic rock.”

“I’m rubbish at piano,” Rose said.  “Can barely pick out _Chopsticks,_ me.  My Mum didn’t have money for piano lessons.”

Hal paused between phrases for the briefest of seconds before responding.  “Really?  An heiress who doesn’t have money for music lessons?”

Rose leaned a little closer.  “Haven’t always been an heiress.  How much do ya know about me?”

She stiffened a little, but didn’t stop playing.  “Other than what I’ve learned from working with you, just what I’ve been told,” she said tonelessly.

“By the Doctor?”

“Yes,” replied Hal.  “And all of it has been fairly complimentary.”  She met Rose’s gaze and saw a myriad of emotions.  Hal was tempted to reach out a tendril to tap into her feelings, but her natural instinct prompted her to keep her shields solidly in place in a room full of strangers.

“How much do you know about the Doctor?” Rose said after a long pause.  

“More than you might think.”

“Enough to trust him to get into your head, it seems,” Rose said pointedly.

Hal hit a sour note and winced.  She kept her gaze on the ivories as she thought of how to respond to Rose’s last words, knowing that she was almost literally on thin ice.  She finished the piece and let her fingers run lightly over the tops of the keys, thinking.

“It’s not so much a matter of trust, Rose,” Hal answered finally.  “We had a bit of a misunderstanding, and it became necessary to clear the air.”

“You know that he’s not human, right?  Didya know he’s kinda emotionally unstable and dangerous?  I don’t think you know what you’re playin’ with.”

“He’s no more dangerous than you,” snarled Hal before she could stop herself.  She closed her eyes tightly, trying to rein in her emotions.  The last thing she had expected was to jump to the Doctor’s defence.  Rose, however, smiled enigmatically as if she’d predicted it.

“I’m sorry, that was rather rude of me,” said Rose, although she didn’t seem incredibly contrite.  “That’s not exactly somethin’ one should say to someone about their boyfriend, even if one knows him better, now is it?”

“If you know him so well, why aren’t _you_ with him?  Don’t leave your toys lying carelessly around if you don’t want anyone else to play with them!” puffed Hal, eyes fiery.

“So he’s a boy toy, huh?  Well, I guess he is kinda pretty, isn’t he?  Even if he’s broke,” Rose said snippily. 

“Look, Rose,” Hal said after drawing a long breath, “he wants you, and only you.  If he ever loses faith in you, you’ll lose him.  Someone else is gonna pick up the pieces if you’re not careful.  But there’s nothing like that between us.  He’s not my boyfriend; not even a potential boyfriend, and we’re just friends.”

“No, you look,” said Rose as her cheeks reddened in annoyance.  “The Doctor and I, the proper Doctor in the other world, we were really close.  We travelled together for two years.  Two years, Hal!  And not once did he ever go into my head like he did yours.  It’s… it’s… sorta _intimate,_ like… like takin’ your clothes off in front of each other.  Why would he do that if you’re just mates?”

Hal stared into Rose’s eyes, panting very softly in anxiety.  She knew what she needed to do, but the fear closed in on her, stopping the words.  She could see that Rose’s eyes were sending a silent pleading, a wish that Hal would not lay claim to something Rose didn’t yet have firmly in her grasp.  Hal couldn’t say more without outing herself, and for that she felt she needed support.  

_It’s time,_ she sent silently to the Doctor.

“Rose, do you really want to know the truth?  The whole truth?  You have nothing to fear from me, and I swear to you that I speak the truth when I say I don’t want the Doctor.  But in order for you to understand, I need to be able to trust you.”

“I don’t understand,” Rose said, slowly shaking her head in bewilderment.

“What if I told you that I’m from your universe?”

Rose’s jaw dropped.  She stared silently at Hal, not quite in disbelief, but not far from it.

“Hallo!” came a familiar voice next to Hal’s ear.  “Did I hear a little birdy call me?” the Doctor said with a grin as he sat on the piano bench, pulling Hal about the shoulders into a hug.

“What are you two on about?” asked Rose, still confused.

“Shall we take a little walk, ladies?” asked the Doctor as he stood up.  “I think we have quite a bit to talk about.”

Taking a side door out of the Hall, they strolled through the meandering hallways to the library, Rose trailing silently with a strange look on her face.  She stopped in the library and crossed her arms, staring at the two as if she didn’t know them.  “Ok, who’s gonna tell me what the devil is goin’ on?” she said with a slight frown.  “What’s this about Hal comin’ from my universe?”

“Our universe, really,” said the Doctor.  “We’re, all three of us, from the same universe.  Hal popped into Pete’s World through a rift five years ago, even before you came here the first time, Rose.”

“Does Pete know this?” Rose asked.

“No,” Hal sighed.  “But we are telling him tomorrow after breakfast.  We have a meeting set up with him to do so.”

“Hal wanted to tell you herself before Pete found out,” the Doctor added.  “It was her idea to tell you.  And she is showing a lot of trust and a great deal of courage, I might add.”

“Why haven’t you told him before, Hal?  It’s not like it’s a huge deal.  He has a daughter and wife from the other universe, not to mention Mickey and the Doctor here came from there.  Why hide it?”

“I’m not completely human,” Hal said softly.  “I didn’t know how Torchwood would react to me.  I was afraid I’d end up in the dungeons along with the weevils, or worse.”

“What are you?” Rose asked as she took a seat.  Seeing that Rose wasn’t running and screaming down the hallway, Hal and the Doctor relaxed a little and sat across from her.  The Doctor placed a reassuring hand on Hal’s forearm, waiting for her to speak.

“I’m a shifter,” Hal answered.  “But not one of the alien shape shifters like you’ve encountered before.  My people are practically indigenous to Earth.  We’ve been there longer than humanity itself.  Probably three per cent of the human population has ancient shifter genes and don’t know it.  The genes are highly concentrated in me, but I’m still about eighty per cent human.”

Hal spent the next thirty minutes telling Rose about her background, her people’s background, her family, and how she came to be in Pete’s World.  Rose sat calmly and tried to take it all in.  The Doctor sat quietly as Rose asked completely cogent and intelligent questions.  He swelled with pride at Rose’s acceptance of Hal’s story regarding Sontarans, Rutans and other alien species she’d only encountered through her travels with him.  She was certainly no longer an ignorant London shop girl.

“And you came through the Rift?”

“A rift, not the Cardiff rift.  There are unstable rifts all over both universes.  But yes, I came through while chasing a fighter ship and got stuck here.”

Rose looked away, thinking furiously.  “So… so you joined the Dimension Cannon project hopin’ it could help you get back to your home in the other universe, in Prime?”

Hal nodded.  “Yeah, I was using the star charts I brought over from Prime as a guideline to charting locations here, hoping to further the project.  It became particularly critical after the stars started going out here.  I don’t think we would have succeeded in time without that data, to be honest.”  She sighed deeply.  “In the end, I was hoping that once you succeeded in getting across to the right universe and found the Doctor, I could slip through myself before dimensional retroclosure occurred.  Didn’t quite work out that way.”

She looked up to see Rose sitting with tears hanging precariously from her lashes, her face flushed pinkish by emotion.

“Oh, Hal,” Rose breathed.  “All this time you were workin’ to get me safely through the Cannon, and you never said a word to me.  We were in the same boat, you and me.  Stuck here, wantin’ to get back.  I would’a helped you.  I could’a took you with me when I knew we were so close.  You wouldn’t be still stuck here now!”

“I’m sorry, Rose.  I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you back then,” said Hal quietly, staring at her hands.  “I was just too afraid.  The Torchwood I knew from Prime would have locked me away, experimented on me, or dissected me.  With you being the daughter of the Director of the Torchwood here, I didn’t feel I could risk it.  Yet, everything I needed, all of the science and equipment, was readily available only at Torchwood.  It was sort of like working in an asylum when you’d just escaped as a patient from another.”

Rose got up to sit on the other side of Hal and took her hand.  “I’m so sorry, Hal.  I really am, and I understand.  It’s just a pity that you missed your opportunity to get back home.”

“There may be another way, Rose,” the Doctor spoke up.

“How?”

“The baby TARDIS.  Once she’s matured, we may be able to find a wormhole that is stable enough to traverse.  Hal has experience charting and navigating wormholes, it seems,” he said with a smile.

“Sounds dangerous,” Rose said.

“It is,” Hal nodded.  “I’m not sure if we can get it done, or if the TARDIS can get back if we do get across.”

“But that’s… at least another five years, yeah?”

“At least.  I’m not sure I can accelerate the growth of the TARDIS coral beyond what Donna theorized.  And we still need to locate a suitable wormhole.  If we’re very, very lucky, we might be able to get Hal’s ship functioning again.  That would be ideal, if it can be done,” shrugged the Doctor.

“So, that’s what your project is about?  You’re lookin’ for Time Lords?”

“Or at least Time Lord technology.  Plus… well… I have my own little pet project, but I’m not quite ready to disclose the nature of that yet,” he said with a crooked smile.  “Sounds kind of barmy right now.”

“So, you see, Rose… I want to get back to Prime,” explained Hal.  “That’s _all_ I want.  I don’t want to hurt anyone, in any way.  You’ve nothing to fear from me.”

“Don’t worry,” said Rose.  “I’ll help you in any way I can.  Let me know if you want me to attend your meeting with Pete tomorrow.”

“That’s my Rose Tyler!” the Doctor said with a big grin.  

“I need to get back.  Vitex heiress an’ all that rubbish, you know,” Rose said as she got up to leave.  “Give me a call tomorrow if you want me to show up.  I’m sure Pete will need time to stop his head from explodin’ first.”

“Thank you, Rose,” Hal said with a warm smile.

“Oh, and Doctor,” Rose called out as she turned at the door.  “I know I’ve been a proper cow to you since you came here, and I’m sorry.  Can’t quite tell what I’m feelin’ yet, but I hope we can start over to become friends, yeah?”

“Oh, I’d love that, Rose,” said the Doctor, shocked and elated.

They listened as she walked down the hallway until her footsteps became inaudible.  Turning to each other, the Doctor gave Hal a high-five before they both started grinning like maniacs.

“I do believe we both have something to celebrate,” said the Doctor.  “May I escort you to the party, Doctor Forbin?”

“Absolutely, Doctor Smith!” grinned Hal.

They linked hands and ran through the corridors, following the sounds of loud dance music drifting from the Tyler Great Hall.


	19. Need to Know, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Torchwood party is in full swing, and the Doctor dances.

 

The Torchwood party was going full bore by the time the Doctor, Hal and Rose returned to the Great Hall.  Rose immediately merged into a stream of employees and their guests, all wanting to talk to, or be seen with, the Vitex heiress.  At least ten couples were gathered in the centre of the dance floor, gyrating somewhat drunkenly before massive speakers mounted about the stage.  Modern dance music blared overhead with a steady, pounding beat.  Spinning a kinetic dance number that had several other couples joining the floor, the rather Rastafarian-looking DJ caught the Doctor’s eye with a big grin.  Still holding Hal by the hand, the Doctor marched swiftly toward the dance floor, towing Hal along with him.

Confused by the Doctor’s unrelenting grip on her hand, Hal trotted alongside trying to keep up with him until she saw his trajectory.  “No, no, no!” she yelped in a panic, setting her feet so that he was now dragging her toward the dance floor.  “Oh, yes!” he smiled, grasping her hand more tightly than ever as he kept going.  “This is my first Torchwood party.  We’ve gotta dance!”  Bucking fitfully like a frightened lassoed wild mustang, Hal almost managed to break his grip when he whirled her around to grab her other hand by the wrist.  Swaying to the music, he led her into the middle of the dancing crowd, giggling in delight like an amused child.

“Doctor… ROSE!”  Hal choked out, eyes wide in embarrassment.  She moved half-heartedly to the music, keeping as much distance between their bodies as she could.  It was obvious to the Doctor that she would bolt at the first opportunity.  He kept a firm grip on her wrist and hand, almost tightly  enough to cut off the circulation.

“What about Rose?” he asked innocently.

“You should be dancing with _Rose_ , you idiot!”

“Huh… well, Rose is quite busy right now,” he responded blandly, undeterred by Hal’s struggles to break free and flee.

“Doctor??”

“Yes, Hal?” he asked pleasantly, twirling Hal around once again to the thrum of the steady bass beat.

“She’s gonna be watching us, you know,” Hal warned with a frown.

He gave her an evil smirk at the last.  “Good,” he said.  “I have my brainy specs on, just like you told me.”  His gaze swept the room in search of Rose.  A predatory twinkle in his eyes was all the warning she got.  Before Hal could react the Doctor swiftly encircled her waist in his long, slender arms.  Much to her consternation he pulled her up tightly against him. Feeling her stiffen and gasp, he ignored her reaction and closed his eyes.  Swaying with her to the music, he felt her relax a smidgeon as ancient instinct took over.  Their latent psychic connection flared above its normal background whisper at the close physical contact. 

He had felt traces of it before.  It was an urge known to every telepathic species that cajoled them to reach out and touch on a non-physical plane.  There were huge gaping holes in both the Doctor and Hal, vacuous areas of bitter loneliness left behind by the dead and the impossibly distant.  They ached with longing and grief, constantly throbbing and reminding them of what was no longer there, like the exposed pulp of a tooth.  The yearning to fill that emptiness and to be filled, to touch a kindred spirit who would understand and not turn away, was beginning to leak uncontrollably through both of their psychic barriers.  Hal shuddered, then began to tremble as she fought to keep her shields intact against the tentative mental brushing coming from the Time Lord’s mind. 

Skillfully, the DJ merged into a slower dance number as several couples broke to leave the dance floor.  Gazing quizzically into Hal’s eyes, the Doctor slowed their pace but didn’t release her.  Hal sighed resignedly and tucked the top of her head, which barely reached the Doctor’s shoulders, under his chin.  They knew simultaneously that something extraordinary was happening, but neither was sure of exactly what their feelings entailed.  There was no burst of pheromones, no intense physiological response that give context to the situation.  Neither felt any real physical attraction or romantic feelings toward the other, and yet the pull each felt toward the other was almost overwhelming.  They knew they were on the cusp of change, but worried about how the change might affect their lives.

“This feels so… wrong,” Hal gasped in exasperation.  A bubble of mirth burst through her as she softly giggled, unable to keep a serious face any longer.

“How so?” he asked, his face still serious as he struggled with his own emotions.  The strong drive to push past Hal’s mental barriers disturbed him, but he couldn’t force himself to let her go.  He feared a strong connection to Hal and what it might mean for his reconciliation plans with Rose, yet at the moment he was afraid of Hal’s rejection even more.  A strong swirl of emotion, combined with the swaying of their bodies, threatened to induce a touch of vertigo.  He clutched her body closer for support.

“It… it feels sorta like… a taboo, or something,” Hal chuckled again.  “Sorta like… I’m dancing with my… brother.”

He looked down at her, flashing a teasing grin.  “Really? Do you actually _have_ a brother, Hal?”

“No, never had a brother,” she admitted.  “But if I had one, I’m positive doing a slow grind against him would feel a lot like this.”

“Would you like one?” the Doctor whispered conspiratorially into her ear, still grinning madly.  For some strange reason, he got a huge thrill in teasing Hal out of her comfort zone.

Hal leaned back, cocking one eyebrow at him.  “A brother… or a slow grind?” she quipped cheekily.

“A brother, you nutter,” he smiled.  “Although I’m up for either.  Never had a sister, me, so I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do a slow grind with her… if I had one, that is.  Also pretty sure 99.9% of Time Lords never did a slow grind with anyone, so perhaps it never became a taboo on Gallifrey.”

“Shut up!” laughed Hal.

“No, seriously.  Time Lords never do dirty dancing, they…”

“No,” Hal interrupted with a shake of her head, still grinning in amusement.  “I meant literally.  Shut.  Up.  You’re babbling again.”

“Oi, is this where you pull off my head and stick it in a box, like poor old Daryl?”

“If necessary,” Hal baited.  Her entire body was beginning to quake with suppressed laughter at the idea of wrenching the Doctor’s head off.

They were laughing so hard that they accidentally nudged another couple, who happened to be a much potted Jackie and an only slightly more sober Pete Tyler.  “Sorry!” they chorused to Jackie and Pete, who seemed barely able to remain upright on the dance floor. 

“You two look so cute laughin’ and dancin’ t… to… together,” slurred Jackie, confirming the Doctor’s  supposition that it was Jackie who comprised the weakest link of the dancing duo. 

“Party’s far from over,” smiled Pete with a wink and a nod toward Jackie.  With a barely controlled whirl that threatened to take Jackie to the floor, Pete put a few feet between the couples to prevent another collision.

“Blimey,” said the Doctor as he looked down at Hal again.  “Hope Pete’s going to be sober by the afternoon.  We may have to wait just a tiny bit longer than after breakfast for our meeting, or he may not remember it at all.”

Hal nodded.  “I can stay a little longer, if that’s what it takes.”

“Good.  And we’re literally dancing around our earlier conversation, aren’t we?” he asked gently.

Hal’s first inclination was to ask “what conversation,” but she thought better of it.  A slightly sad expression dampened her smile, causing the Doctor to hold in his breath.  The DJ spun another slow dance number, leaving Hal little choice but to respond.

“We’re talking about a psychic bond… a sibling bond, aren’t we?”

“Weell,” he drawled, “I suppose, although nothing like what you have with your sister, naturally.”

“That kind of bond isn’t possible, Doctor.  Elly and I bonded in the womb long before either of us was born.  That level of twin bonding isn’t voluntarily, nor is it severable.  It’s rare, even amongst strong telepaths, unlike your common garden-variety sibling bond.  Were Time Lords ever capable of sibling bonds?”

“Well, not so much Time Lords, but definitely Gallifreyans.  Usually bonding occurred spontaneously between cousins reared within the same household.  But Time Lords left for the Academy at age eight, so there was lesser opportunity for bonding to develop within the family.  Occasionally it would happen between acolytes while in the Academy,” he added with an inexplicably sad expression.

“But with adults?”

“Rarely, I think.  Probably because there were millions of voices in our heads already.  From an evolutionary standpoint, it makes sense.  If you’ve learned to cope without a sibling link by then, it’s most likely not necessary.”

Troubled, Hal looked away just in time to catch a glimpse of Rose at the edge of the dance floor.  She was talking to someone, but distractedly watching Hal and the Doctor dance.  Hal shot her a challenging look before turning back to the Doctor, who hadn’t noticed Rose on the periphery.

“Why would we do that to ourselves, Doctor?  You’ll be here.  I’ll be there, in Prime.  Why do you think I’ve avoided attachments all of this time?  Why would I want to trade getting my family in Prime back, only to leave a part of it behind again here in Pete’s World?”

“We’ll think of something, you and me.  We’re both very clever, Hal.  If we can figure out how to get across the Void and back, perhaps we can set up beacons in the wormhole that will allow communications between the two dimensions.  Sort of like geosynchronous communication satellites, eh?”

“I don’t know,” she said reluctantly, shaking her head.  She tried to ignore the crestfallen look on the Doctor’s face.

They stopped as the last song ended.  A slight tapping on her shoulder alerted Hal to Rose’s presence.

“May I break in?” asked Rose politely with a smile.

Relieved, Hal broke into a huge grin before placing Rose’s hand firmly into the Doctor’s.  “Certainly,” she said.  “I need to get a drink anyway.  Oh, and make him show you some of his moves!  I get the feeling he’s been holding out on me,” Hal winked before darting away toward the beverage bar.

“ _Oi_ _!_ ” protested the Doctor, too late for Hal to notice.  He watched her retreating back, his brows knitted in irritation.  “Oh, hello!” he finally said, suddenly aware of Rose standing patiently as the next song began.

“Hello!  Would you care to dance with me, Doctor?”  Rose asked demurely.

“I thought you’d never ask, Rose Tyler,” he drawled, giving her a heated glance that brought color to her cheeks.  He placed his other hand chastely at her waist and led her deeper onto the floor, never breaking his gaze.

“Sooo, what are these moves she’s talkin’ about?” Rose purred, her tongue suddenly appearing between her teeth.  “You learn a few new ones since you were in leather?”

The mention of his last regeneration reminded him that they’d once used the term “dancing” as a euphemism for a less vertical, and far less public, activity.  His voice dropped into a throaty growl at the memory.  “Oh, you have no idea, Rose!  My prowess on the dance floor was legendary, even back then.  Just didn’t think it was quite… appropriate at the time.”

“Yeah? Didn’t see ya usin’ too much of that legendary prowess with Hal,” she grinned.

“That’s ‘cause she said dancing with me was like dancing with her brother!” he groaned with a wounded look. “And she doesn’t even _have_ a brother.”

“Well, I got a brother,” she smiled, “but he’s a bit young and a bit short for the type of dancin’ I like to do on the floor.”

“Well… show me what you’ve got, Ms. Tyler,” he challenged her.  Without another word, Rose locked her gaze with his and closed the distance between them.  They moved synchronously in perfect step to the strong Latin beat of the Talking Heads, “Burning Down the House _._ ”  Within a few seconds, Rose confidently placed her arms around the Doctor’s neck as he took over the lead.  They let the thrum of the music move through them, following an ancient rhythm as old as life itself.

The first thing the Doctor noticed was how perfectly Rose fit against him, as if she were made expressly for him.  Or rather, that he was made exactly to her specifications.  A good three inches taller than Hal, Rose seemed to strike his frame at the right height for hips, arms and legs.  She moved fluidly and sensuously in perfect cadence with him, almost as if she could anticipate his every movement to the heavy percussive beat of the music.  Her warm amber-hued eyes met his at the perfect level, allowing his neck to relax rather than bend awkwardly to meet them.  He was only an inch taller than in his previous regeneration, and yet he couldn’t recall ever feeling so exquisitely proportioned to match the pink and yellow girl who stole his hearts.

_Heart._   He had only one now.  It was pounding out a rhythm that couldn’t be explained by his current level of exertion.  Becoming acutely aware of his galloping singular heart for the first time in weeks, he swallowed noisily.  Not only were his heart and respiration rates careening above the norm, but a fine sheen of perspiration was beginning to form on his upper lip.  His keen Time Lord olfactory system registered a warm, enticing, and rapidly increasing scent wafting up from within his arms.  He closed his eyes and smiled as he pressed his temple against Rose’s hair, taking a deep sniff of a mixture of strawberry shampoo, subtle floral cologne, and the sweet smell that was distinctly and uniquely Rose Tyler.  His heart swelled painfully to almost bursting, unable to believe she was actually within his arms again.

Pulling back slightly and twisting, Rose turned in his arms to face away.  She leaned back to rotate her pert, round bum against the Doctor’s hips and pulled both his arms tightly around her waist.  She looked back coquettishly over her shoulder to judge his reaction.  Surprise flashed through his slightly flushed features, but she noted with feminine pride that he never missed a beat.  She turned her head back around in time to see her Mum standing by the refreshments, mouth gaping as her flute of champagne poured unnoticed from her hand.  Pete, grinning and giving the Doctor a mischievous two-fingered salute, rescued the glass before it slipped completely from her grasp.

_Uh oh,_ a panicky thought coursed through the Doctor’s mind.  His blazing face and neck turned a deep crimson as his traitorous half-human body took control.  He thanked all of the Eternals that he’d worn extremely tight denims to the party, while cursing himself for losing mastery over a specific, and apparently very excited, part of his anatomy.  Getting slapped by Jackie was currently the least of his worries.  Rose bolting and leaving his predicament exposed to view under flashing strobe lights was not a memory he cared to take away from his first Torchwood party.

Rose twisted back around to face him and grasped the Doctor’s bum with both hands.  He gave a soft squeak of alarm when she hauled him back against her, seemingly determined not to leave an iota of airspace between them.  Rocking her hips, Rose riveted him with a smoky come-hither look that was almost his undoing.  Her wispy, shimmering short skirt and the sight of her ample cleavage, bursting from a clingy silk blouse while undulating against his chest, did nothing to allay the pressure building below his waist.

“Why, Doctor,” she mewed, “is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket, or are you jus’ happy to see me?”  She chuckled, her tongue once again poked out the corner of her mouth in mirth.  Her eyes sparkled wickedly as they met his, which were almost black with barely contained desire.

“There is indeed a sonic screwdriver in my pocket, Rose Tyler,” he said deliberately, enunciating each syllable carefully in a gravelly voice.  “But that’s not what you’re bumping against.”

Rose dropped her gaze, unable to meet the intensity of his eyes, which felt as if they were burning into her soul.  The next song spun by the DJ slowed the pace a bit, allowing Rose to grant the Doctor a temporary reprieve by placing a few inches between them.  His eyes shut as he tried to concentrate on the music, taking a deep breath to slow down what had rapidly turned into a pant.  A smile crept over his face.

“Oh, Rose.  It’s our song,” he breathed.

“Our… our song?”

“Tainted Love! By Soft Cell?” he prompted, opening his eyes again.  “You do remember, don’t you?” 

“Oh yeah,” she responded with a wondering smile.  “Our first trip together to 5.5/Apple/26.  You took me to see the end of the world.”

The Doctor’s face fell.  “Rubbish first date, wasn’t it?  Don’t know what I was thinking.”

“That was a date?!?”

“Weeelll… guess _I’ve_ always thought of it as a first date,” he said uneasily, a bit embarrassed by his Freudian slip.

“You might have mentioned that, yeah?”

“Yeah, well…” he said with a sheepish shrug, “I’ve always been kind of rubbish about that, too.  Not mentioning things about myself or my past.  Not telling people how I really feel about them.  Changing the subject if the topic got uncomfortable for me.  That sort of stuff.  Was far worse as the other me, I suppose.  Complete idiot, I was.”

“Sooooo…  why didn’t you ever dance with me again after that first time?  You know, after we met Jack for the first time?” she asked after a pause.

He stared at her, mouth slightly agape.  His eyes roamed her features as the urge to bend down and gently kiss her washed through him.  It seemed an eternity since his lips had touched hers; an eternity since that defining moment when he’d pledged all that he was to her.

She was older now.  No longer was his Rose the pink and yellow little human girl whose hand he’d grasped in that shop basement so very long ago.  Her face had become more angular; her eyes held a new maturity beyond her years; her posture, scent and grooming had all altered as she completed transformation into a woman during his long absence.  She was still his Rose, and yet different.  

Seeing the question in her eyes, he let his mind brush ever so gently against hers in a zephyr-like mental caress that held all of the love, hope, longing, and regret cascading from his heart.  For the briefest of seconds, he felt as if he still had both his hearts, because one heart simply didn’t seem large enough to contain all that he felt for her.  

He felt her shudder at the mental touch and could sense her curiosity, confusion, and hesitancy; but beneath, just out of reach, was a deep longing and a desire to connect with him.  Much to his chagrin, her mind withdrew from his when he pressed slightly deeper.  A few lines appeared between her eyes, letting him know that she was aware of him but not quite ready for such intimate contact.  Sighing, he resolved to give her more time to get to know him again.  He was still a Time Lord, after all.  He would make Time do his bidding.

The Doctor leaned closer to her as they continued to dance, and whispered in her ear.  “I didn’t dance with you again because I was afraid.  I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop with only dancing.  I was afraid you were far too young.  I was afraid I was far too old.  I was afraid I would lose you.  I was afraid you’d feel a sonic in my pocket and think I was this daft dirty old alien trying to get into your knickers.  Last but not least, I was afraid of Jackie’s predilection for slapping.”

Rose leaned back slightly, eyes wide in shock.  Her face crumpled as she burrowed her face into his jacket, trying hard to stifle the girlish giggles that threatened to bend her double.  The Doctor chuckled as he reached up to hold her about the shoulders and rock her to the music.  He knew that if he could tease her and make her laugh, he could find his way back into her heart.

Gasping for breath, Rose looked back up and fixed him with an enticing smile.  “Soooo…, Doctor. We’re dancin’ right now, and my Mum is only a few feet away.  What’s different now?”

“Oh, I’m still very much afraid of all of those things.  Except, perhaps the last couple of reasons might be a bit truer,” he answered with a cheeky, wry grin.  Rose’s breath hitched at the sight of said daft old alien, who wore a slightly haughty expression she was all too familiar with as he tilted his head back, tip of tongue firmly plastered to the roof of his mouth.  With his glasses sliding down and magnifying his huge brown orbs, he was devastatingly gorgeously.  Her eyes slid from his thick mane of wild chestnut hair down to his full, pouty lips.

_Oh, that tongue,_ Rose thought to herself with a little shiver.  That tongue had been the topic of many a conversation at Torchwood, and had featured in many a heated daydream for more than a few Torchwood employees.  She idly mused if he knew just how provocative his unconscious mannerisms in this incarnation could be.

A loud squeal woke them both from their reveries as a couple whirled past them.  They glanced up to see Hal firmly in the clutches of a smallish dark man in a three-piece suit, wavy black hair pomaded to perfection.  He stooped to bump and grind lasciviously between Hal’s legs in time to the music.  The petite blonde researcher had a huge sloppy grin on her flushed face as she dipped to maintain contact with her partner, obviously having given up her antisocial tendencies for the night.

“Who is that?!?” growled the Doctor, brows knitted in overt displeasure.

“That, Doctor, would be your mate, Hal,” Rose answered obliquely with a smirk.

“No, no, no!” he snapped, never taking his eyes off the couple.  “Who’s that bloke she’s with?”

“The bloke?  Oh, he’s Cynthia’s Meyers’ boyfriend.  Cynthia from Weapons Research.  Ronaldo is his name, I think.  He’s from Spain.”

“So where’s this Cynthia?”  His jocular mood soundly broken, the Doctor had stiffened and was barely moving to the music at all.  Rose could detect the Oncoming Storm brewing in his dark eyes as he glared holes in the side of Ronaldo’s head.  He was clearly taking umbrage at the unfamiliar man’s inebriated attempts to perform sex on a dance floor, fully clothed in a cheap suit, with Hal. 

“Uhm… is there a problem?  She looks like she’s enjoyin’ herself.”

“A bit too much,” he said through clenched teeth.  “I’d say Hal’s probably had enough drink for one night.”  He disengaged himself from Rose as the song ended.  Marching over to the couple, he placed his hand none to gently on Hal’s shoulder and spun her around to face him.

“Doctor!” Hal exclaimed, giggling as she almost tipped over.  She stopped immediately at the furious look on the Time Lord’s face.

“Having fun?” he hissed crossly, looking imperiously down his nose at Hal.  Ronaldo wisely chose to scamper off wordlessly in search of his girlfriend… or shelter from the Storm… without so much as a by your leave.

“Was until _you_ came over,” Hal muttered angrily.  She wasn’t quite sure how she’d incurred the ire of the Doctor, but she resented how he was placing a wet towel on her unusually festive mood.  They glared at each other in a stare-off, Hal’s dark blue eyes glittering in a hard challenge to the Doctor’s authority.

“How much have you had to drink, Hal?” he demanded, hand on hip.

Hal rolled her eyes.  “Oh, so you’re channelin’ Carrie Nation now?  How about this, your Lordship?  I’m goin’ to the ladies room, and then I’m comin’ back here for another drink!  Or two.”  Throwing him another hard stare as she departed, she stalked off behind the stage and exited into the interior of the mansion.

Furious, the Doctor took a step as if to follow her when he felt a hand at his elbow.  He looked down to see a very concerned Rose at his side, brows crinkled into a slight frown.

“Let her cool off,” Rose said sagely.  “I could use a drink myself, after all that dancin’.”  She stuck the tip of her tongue out of the side of her mouth with a little smile, breaking the Doctor’s attention from his altercation with Hal.  He let her lead him from the floor over to a free-standing bar.  She ordered two drinks, one of them a banana daiquiri for the Doctor.  Silently, they took their drinks to sit in a row of chairs along the wall as he gradually calmed himself.

“What was that about?” Rose asked quietly while the Doctor took a slow sip of his frothy daiquiri.  He looked away, abashed.

“I dunno,” he said finally.  “Didn’t like the looks of him, I guess.”  He grimaced and started gesturing wildly.  “And why in Rassilon’s name did Hal suddenly decide to make a complete minx of herself at a Torchwood party?  I had a dreadful time getting her to eat lunch away from her desk.”

Rose laughed.  “Doctor, one might think you were a jealous lover based on your reaction.  She wasn’t doin’ nothin’ out of the ordinary for a party.  You should’a seen me Mum partyin’ when she was single.”

The Doctor did a double-take before pulling a face.  “Ewww, I really don’t want an image of Jackie doing anything like that running through my head.  Rather stick a fork in my eye,” he grimaced.  “And it’s not jealousy, Rose, honestly.”

“Then what is it?  It’s not how I expect people to act who are _just mates_ , Doctor.”

He thought about it before responding, not quite sure how to say what he meant.  “Well, it’s kind of complicated,” he lamely responded, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Rose’s face fell.  Her cheeks began to colour as she stammered.  “O..oh, I… I see.  A friend with… with, uhm, with benefits… sort of thing.”

His face contorted in bafflement.  “What?!?  Friends with _what_?”

“You know… friends with benefits.  Friends who aren’t boyfriend/girlfriend in a committed relationship, but who agree to have, uhm, casual… sex… from time to time.”

“Oh, nooo!” the Doctor said in horror, eyes growing huge.  “Oh, no, no, no, no, no!  Never!  Never, ever, ever!”  He gulped, trying desperately not to babble incoherently before he could gather his thoughts.

“Rose, I’ve never had sex in this body.  Not this body, not the last, and not even the lifetime before the body I was in when we first met in that basement in Henrik’s.  I don’t even know what casual sex is!  It’s not part of who I am.  And even if I were open to that, which I assure you I’m not…  I swear, I promise you… it couldn’t be with Hal.  You’ve got to believe me about that… I wouldn’t…”

Rose reached up and placed her fingers lightly over his lips to halt his panicked outrush of words.  “’S ok,” she said.  “’S really not my business.  ‘S jus’ that the two of ya seem so chummy… so wrapped up in each other.  I saw the two of ya together in a pub once, yeah?  You… you went into her mind, didn’ya?  You connected to her telepathically?  I thought that was s’pose to be so intimate.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  He looked down at the floor a little guiltily.  “It is.”

She watched him, wondering what he was thinking.  “Did’ya do that with the others?  With Martha or Donna?”

Setting his drink on the floor, he rubbed his hands together in thought.  “Just Donna,” he answered.  

“But you never tried it with me, ever,” she said a little angrily.  “I thought we were really close.  We even slept in the same bed together sometimes.  And when we got stuck on Krop Tor, I thought we might end up livin’ together.  That’s jus’ how close I thought we were.”

He looked up again to see Rose’s eyes misting up with emotion.  “Yeah, we were, Rose.  We were very, very close.  Too close.  So close that I was too terrified to dare try.”

“Why?  What’s the difference?”

“I wasn’t in love with them,” he said almost inaudibly.  “I never wanted them, not the same way.”

Staring at him wordlessly, Rose’s eyes roved his face as she struggled to understand.  “I still don’t understand how they got so close to you so quickly,” she said dejectedly.  “I was with ya for two whole years, yeah?  You’re not exactly the easiest bloke to get to know.  I found out more about the Time War, and where you came from, in Hal’s proposal than ya ever told me.  Ya never even mentioned the Time War or the name of your planet to me, not once.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry, Rose.  I was a sodding mess when you met me.  You truly made me better, and that’s not flattery.  I want to tell you everything… everything that could ever be known about me.  But, there are things about me you may not like.  I’ve seen things, horrible things.  I’ve… done things.  Terrible things that may make you turn away,” he said as he wrung his hands pensively.

“What’s so terrible that you could tell _them_ , but not tell me?  Jus’ help me to understand this, ‘cause it’s not makin’ much sense to me.  You say you were in love with me, but ya couldn’t tell me about a war that destroyed your home planet?  But you could tell Donna and some woman you’ve only known a few weeks?”

“I didn’t tell Hal,” he offered.  “She sort of took what she wanted in a psychic attack.  That’s all sorted out now, but I would never have told her voluntarily on such short acquaintance.  Donna was different.  Donna and I grew very close, and she had a clever way of extracting information from me.  Never did know when to give up, Donna.  I grew to love Donna like a sister.  She was brilliant, compassionate, loving, selfless, and oh-so-brave.  You know that, because she literally sacrificed herself to save all of us, just on your word.  She would have made a hell of a Time Lady, and I would have been proud to call her my sister.  There was almost nothing I couldn’t tell her.”  

He swallowed thickly.  “Nothing except, what she really meant to me.  I can’t believe I didn’t tell her how I felt.  I had nothing to lose by telling her.”

“If you were as close as you say, she already knows,” Rose tried to comfort him.  “She got all of your memories in the meta-crisis, yeah?  You didn’t need to say it.” 

“Does it need to be said?” he asked knowingly, echoing the full Time Lord’s question to her at Dårlig Ulv Stranden.  Rose winced and paled.

“Yeah, it needed to be said,” he nodded in certainty.  “And she almost assuredly doesn’t know, because I’m positive he had to wipe her memory.  She wouldn’t survive the meta-crisis otherwise.  She won’t remember one minute of our travels or who I am.  I missed my opportunity to tell her the truth.  I am determined not to make the same mistake twice.”

“So, Hal is like Donna?  Sorta like a sister to ya?”

“Yeah, something like that.  Although, Hal is a strong telepath like myself, so the instinctive urge to bond as compatible siblings is strong.  I don’t think either of us truly understood what the attraction was until tonight when we started to dance.  Hal sort of picked up first on feelings generated by the incest taboo inherent in all three of our species.  Her psychic abilities are much stronger than my own.  It might have taken me a little bit longer to suss it out.”

“You can be pretty oblivious sometimes,” Rose smiled.

“Oi,” he protested as he picked up his drink and took a sip.  “I never had a sister before.  How am I to know what it feels like?”

“Oookay,” Rose nodded in understanding.  “That makes a bit more sense.  You feel kinda protective of Hal, sorta like a big brother or somethin’.”

He shrugged.  “Guess so.  Didn’t really think about it, just reacted.”

Rose gave him a crooked little smile.  “So’s that why you were so protective of me with Adam and Jack?  You were pretty tough with both of ‘em.”

“No… no, I don’t think that’s what it was,” he said awkwardly, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Well, you weren’t in love with me back then, were you?  When you still had blue eyes and leather?”

“Uhm…, oh…well,” he stuttered.  His face suddenly went blank.  He seemed to be staring into space as Rose looked at him expectantly.

“Doctor?”

“Something’s wrong,” he muttered.  He craned his neck to search about the Great Hall.  “Where’s Hal?  She should have been back by now.”

“Maybe she went somewhere quiet… “ Rose suggested.

The Doctor’s eyes went round with alarm, as if he could hear something above the blare of the speakers around the stage.  “Oh, no!  Hal is in trouble,” he cried.  He tossed his drink to the floor, unheeding of the splash and mess it made as he jumped to his feet.  Bolting straight for the exit at the back of the Hall, he ran into the mansion corridors, Rose hot on his heels.  He rounded a darkened corner as if he knew what he was looking for, like a bloodhound on an invisible scent trail.

In the hallway, up against the wall, was Hal.  She had been pinned against the surface with her arms held above her head by Ronaldo, who was using his other hand to grasp the opening of her linen blouse as she struggled.  With a lecherous and low snicker, he ripped at the blouse, sending buttons flying through the air and skittering across the highly-polished tile floor.

In only a few long strides of his long legs, the Doctor as behind the drunken Spaniard before he was even aware of their entrance.  Grabbing the man by his shoulders, the infuriated Doctor yanked him clear of Hal and slammed him against the opposite wall.  Quick as a flash, he was on him again.  Lifting the smaller man off the floor by his lapels, his pupils completely blackened and features contorted in rage, he growled in a low voice through clenched teeth mere inches from Ronaldo’s terrified face. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” the Doctor hissed.


	20. Need to Know, Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last segment of the three-parter, Need to Know.

 

Ronaldo Luis Castillo had always been a lucky man; one who depended on the kindness of women.  He targeted those women of means with low self-esteem, taking great pains to help them feel as if they were the most beautiful women in the world.  He had come from an old family and old money, but his family had fallen on hard times lately.  He would not stoop so low as to seek employment, but he was extremely happy to offer his services to the ladies.  It was his charitable effort, of course, and he had been fortunate in finding a never-ending supply of broken wealthy women… until lately.  Lately, Ronaldo’s luck started running dry, and tonight it had run out.

Much to Ronaldo’s humiliation he found himself pinned against a wall by the lapels, a maddened Englishman snarling into his face as if he were some poor street urchin caught stealing a bread roll from a restaurant table.  The tall Englishman was extraordinarily strong for his build, effortlessly lifting him off the floor as if he were a good four stones heavier.  True, he towered almost a foot over Ronaldo.   Yet, he would not normally have expected to be threatened by such a thin and gangly man, especially over such a plain and pitifully thin woman!

Ronaldo’s luck had indeed run out, because unbeknownst to the Spaniard he was in the grip of an enraged Time Lord.  And not just any Time Lord, but the one known throughout another universe as the Oncoming Storm, the Bringer of Death, and the Destroyer of Worlds, amongst others.  Nevertheless, he found himself immobilised, breathing hot breath and being strayed with spittle from a terrifying visage only an inch from his nose, just as he was about to take his prize.

The Doctor was in no mood to wait for explanations.  He slammed the little man in the inexpensive suit against the wall once again, paying no attention to the sounds of ripping fabric.  “I said,” he growled again, “what the hell do you think you are doing?  Answer me!”

“Nnn..nothing, Señor!” whimpered Ronaldo.  “Me and the Señorita, we just having some fun, eh?”

“You call ripping her clothes off _fun?!?”_

“She say, she no belong to you!” Ronaldo whined, his English beginning to degrade out of fear for his life.

Hal appeared like an apparition to the side, eyes blazing like heated sapphires.  “That gives you the right to force yourself on me?” she said.  “The word ‘no’ is the same in English and Spanish, you jerk!”  Her blouse gaped open almost to her waist, revealing she wore no bra underneath.  She was so incensed that she didn’t seem to notice.

“You are so not in a good place right now,” snarled the Doctor.  “You have no idea what I could do to you.  What I _should_ do to you.”

“Rose,” he said, never taking his eyes off of Ronaldo’s, “get Security before I take matters into my own hands.”  Rose nodded jerkily and ran back to the party.

“Please, Senor, let me go!  I want no problems,” begged Ronaldo.

“Too late for that,” the Doctor said as he let Ronaldo’s feet touch the floor.  He looked over at Hal, who was still fixated on Ronaldo’s face, poised as if ready to pounce.  Suddenly cognisant of her partial disrobement, he let go of the small man to shrug his jacket off.  “Here,” he told her.  “Take this and put it on before Security arrives.”

As his jacket slipped down his arms, he heard the quiet snick of a blade unsheathing when Ronaldo quickly reached into his pocket.  Arms still pinned by the sleeves of his jacket, he could do nothing as the glint of cold metal flashed mere inches from his chest.

In a blur, Hal brought her hand down in a karate chop to the Spaniard’s forearm.  The sickening sound of bone snapping echoed through the corridor as the switchblade went flying across the floor.  She launched herself into Ronaldo’s side, taking him down with her.  Flipping over him in one fluid motion, she twisted before he could get up, grasping his head and chin from behind in a move the Doctor immediately recognised was designed to snap the man’s neck.

“No!” he shouted.  “Don’t kill him!”

Hal froze, a low feral growl erupting from her chest as she glared at the Doctor defiantly.  It bordered on inaudible, but his sensitive Time Lord hearing picked it up without a problem.  Her pupils had constricted to mere pinpoints, glittering so coldly that he shuddered in response.  Something about her eyes unnerved him.  There was something in them that reminded him eerily of the harrowing incident on Midnight, and Sky Sylvestry’s unblinking gaze during an alien possession.  Hal was beyond rage; she was in the red zone, and if he couldn’t get her to recognise and respond to him, he was sure Ronaldo’s life would be measured in seconds.  

Ronaldo whimpered and cradled his broken arm, too terrified to struggle.  He hoped for the little man’s sake that he was intelligent enough to remain perfectly still.  Reaching out to touch Hal in hopes of making a connection to her, he saw her stiffen.  He froze rather than antagonise her as the sound of hurried footsteps drifted down the hall.  Pete, Jake, Rose and two security guards appeared around the corner, handguns drawn.

“Stay back!” he ordered, catching Pete’s eye without moving a muscle.  Responding to the authoritative crack of his voice, they stopped and waited, but kept their weapons at the ready.  Levelling his gaze back at Hal, he lowered his voice again.

“Listen to me, Hal.  You don’t want to do this.  You need to let him go.  Just... just let him go, okay?  Pete and Jake will take care of him.  He won’t be able to hurt anyone else, but you can’t do this on your own.”

She continued to stare at him unmoving; waiting, it seemed for something, but he couldn’t ascertain what.  What was holding her back?  He was a touch telepath; he needed to be in contact but she was clearly not going to let him approach any closer.  He reached out to the best of his ability, but once again Hal’s shields presented a smooth, impenetrable barrier.  Desperate, he did the only thing he could think of.  Closing his eyes, he reached down into the depths of his own psyche and felt for the faint hum of their latent link.

He frantically fished around, feeling very much as if he were searching for a needle in a haystack.  To his surprise, he immediately came upon the distant link he held with the Time Lord in Prime; still shining like a beacon, still cold and silent through vast distance, but still there.  He also felt the warm fuzzy connection he had with the baby TARDIS, singing somewhat forlornly in her nutrient bath back at Torchwood.  

With a shock, he suddenly recognised a link he never knew he had.  Intertwined amongst the withered chord that used to be the connection he held with his old TARDIS was a faint and tenuous link to Rose.  Astonished, he could tell it had been there for a long time; possibly prior to his loss of Rose at Canary Wharf.  Had he continued his old practice of meditation exercises, he would have undoubtedly discovered it.

Reminding himself that he had no time to investigate this new find, he resumed his search.  Just as he was about to give up and return to talking Hal out of her trance, he found it.  The link was thin and constricted; Hal had unwittingly withdrawn as much as possible without actually breaking the connection.  Not knowing what to expect, he followed the thin thread, gently pushing his consciousness through the connection.  Feeling through the void, he brushed against Hal’s consciousness.  She had withdrawn deeply into herself and was terrified.

_Hal, please.  It’s me!  It’s the Doctor.  Can you hear me?_

He felt an inarticulate querulous response to his mental call, but she did not draw any closer.    Gingerly, he pressed further, sending a soothing wave of reassurance toward her.  He felt her respond and move toward him.  Slowly backing away, he encouraged her to follow.  

_That’s it, don’t be scared.  You can come out now.  No one will hurt you.  I’m right here, Hal.  Come out so I can talk to you._ He continued his calming mental dialogue, backing slowly away until he was sure she recognised him.  Opening his eyes, he met Hal’s gaze again.  She blinked, her pupils returning to a more normal size as he saw a glimmer of recognition dawning.

“Hal,” he said softly, “I need you to let him go.”

She dropped her eyes to look at Ronaldo’s head in her grasp, but didn’t move.

“Let… him… go!” commanded the Doctor very slowly, emphatically, but quietly.  He backed up his verbal order with an equally commanding wave of strong will through their connection, hoping intensely that she wouldn’t defy him.

Hal straightened and released Ronaldo’s head abruptly, watching impassively as the back of his head bounced off the hard tile floor.

“Aaiyeee!” wailed the little Spaniard, clutching the base of his skull with his good hand while wincing from the pain of his unsupported broken arm.

“Don’t you dare move!” the Doctor pointed at him gruffly.  “Move a muscle and I’ll let her finish you off.”  Ronaldo groaned and resumed cradling his right arm, but didn’t attempt to get up.

“Move away from him, Hal,” ordered the Doctor, not exactly sure if Hal was completely under control.  Stone-faced, she scooted backwards several feet in compliance.  He gave a nod to Pete in an all-clear message.

Retrieving his jacket and the switchblade from the floor, he walked behind Hal and draped the jacket around her shoulders as the security guards pulled Ronaldo to his feet.  Hal wrapped the jacket across her chest, the jacket dwarfing her small frame as she remained silently on her knees.

“My arm, it is broken,” whined Ronaldo.  “She is a crazy woman.  She broke my arm!”

“Too bad,” growled Pete.  “Take him away,” he ordered the guards, noting that the Doctor looked ready to take another go at Ronaldo himself.  “Doctor, I know the basics from what Rose told me, but I expect a report tomorrow.”

“Understood,” the Doctor said.  “I’ll have it ready for you by noon.”  Pete nodded and followed the security guards as they led the gabbling Ronaldo with them.  Jake stood by to assist Rose and the Doctor, but they shook their heads.  “We’ll take care of her,” he assured Jake, who nodded and followed Pete.

Rose dropped to her knees in front of Hal, placing a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.  “Are you ok, love?” she asked, concern written on her features.  Hal nodded silently, staring at the floor as the Doctor stooped down to wrap his arms around her.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” he said gently, after giving Hal a kiss to the top of the head.  Still silent, Hal let them tug her to her feet and lead her down the corridors and up to the guestroom.  She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, appearing to be lost in thought as Rose sat next to her rubbing her back soothingly.  The Doctor ran downstairs and brought back a bottle of water with him.  He cracked the lid open before handing it to Hal, who took a slow sip as her other hand clasped his jacket tightly around her.

“Stay here,” said Rose.  “I think I’ve left a jumper here that will fit you.”  Hal looked ready to protest when the Doctor sat next to her and shook his head.  

“No, no,” he advised her.  “Let Rose do this.  You’ve had a shock, so just sit here and rest.”

Hal gave him a hollow laugh.  “Shock?  Me?  I was about to kill him.”

“But you didn’t, and that’s what matters,” he stated.  “Do you remember any of it?”

She took a deep breath and let it out.  “I remember everything up until he brought out the switchblade, and then not so much.  I had gone to the ladies room and was returning when he accosted me in the hallway.  He must have followed me when I left the dance floor.  Wanted me to follow him into a hall closet for a little rendezvous.  Wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and when I tried to walk past him, he pushed me up against the wall.  You both came along about that time.”

“You don’t remember knocking him to the floor?”

“No, although I take it that I did,” she said in a small voice.  “Did I break his arm, too?” she asked, levelling her gaze at the Time Lord.

“Yeah… nice Karate move, by the way.  Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I’ve been around,” she sighed.  “I suppose I’m in trouble now.”

“Not with Pete,” he said pointedly as Rose re-entered the room holding two jumpers.

Rose held up the two jumpers.  “Well, I think one of these might do the trick,” she smiled.

“Thanks, Rose, but I do have another shirt in my duffle,” said an embarrassed Hal.

“Save it for breakfast tomorrow,” Rose said.  “I don’t wear these very much anymore, so feel free to keep ‘em if you like.”

“You’re too kind,” Hal smiled back.  Turning to the Doctor, she gave him a quizzical eyebrow.  “So, if I’m not in trouble with Pete, with whom am I in trouble?”

“Me,” he said, looking down his glasses at her and sticking his tongue behind his front teeth.  “But we’ll talk about that later.”

“Oh no we won’t,” frowned Hal.  “Spit it out, right now.”

Rose interjected with a weak slap to his arm.  “Doctor!  Let her put somethin’ decent on first, yeah?”  She thrust the two jumpers into Hal’s hand and led her to the en suite before spinning back on the Doctor.

“Oi, give her a break, yeah?  She almos’ got raped right inna hallway by some drunkard only minutes ago!” she whispered furiously.  He gave her a pouty scowl, but said nothing.

Hal returned, wearing a striped hoodie jumper that almost swallowed her.  “Oh, well… that seems to, uh, fit you ok,” Rose noted hesitantly.

Hal looked down her front, and gave her a wry grin.  “Apparently, not all women are created equal, Rose.  But thank you for the loan.  Maybe the Boob Fairy will visit me now.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes as he turned crimson, muttering something about needing to write a report.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Hal said, pointing her finger at him to indicate he needed to stay seated.  “You’re going to tell me why I’m in trouble, other than for saving you from getting gutted by a Spanish Munchkin.”

“Need I mention that snapping someone’s neck, no matter how much they may deserve it, is generally frowned upon, Hal?”

“He was about to stab you in the heart, Doctor,” Hal snapped.  Rose gasped, since she hadn’t been present when Ronaldo pulled the switchblade.

“You had already disarmed him.  He was no longer a threat.”

“Ok, if you say so,” she said with an unrepentant shrug.  “I don’t exactly remember that part, to be honest.”

“That does worry me a little, Hal.  That you don’t remember.  Rage I understand, because it’s something that I struggle to contain myself.  But you were far, far beyond rage.  I wasn’t sure if I could reach you telepathically in time to stop you,” he said with a concerned frown.  “Has that happened to you before where you don’t remember trying to kill someone?”

Hal cast her eyes to the floor.  “Not in a long time,” she muttered.  “I only get that way when someone threatens the life of…”  She trailed off into silence.

“When someone threatens the life of…?” prodded the Doctor.

“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured.  

“Yes, it does matter, Hal!” shouted the Doctor.  “I need to know.  I need to know what sets you off; when, who, where and how.”

Hal fixed him with a seething glare.  “You need to know if I’m dangerous.  Why don’t you just say it?”

“N…n…no, Hal, I don’t think that’s what he’s sayin’,” stammered Rose.  “He wouldn’t say that.  Not when he’s been…,” she stopped, staring at the Doctor.  “That’s not what you were sayin’, was it?” she asked him faintly, hoping he would deny it.

The Doctor just stared at Hal quietly, pointedly silent.

“Oh… my… God,” gushed Rose in angry disbelief as she stared at the Doctor.  “You really _are_ him, aren’t ya??  Only _you_ can be that flippin’ s-stubborn and, and… arrogant!” she shouted at him.  “There ain’t nothin’ more powerful or, or scary, or… _dangerous_ … than a bleedin’ angry Time Lord in a TARDIS.  I’ve seen that me self, Doctor!  You gonna tell me that Hal here is more dangerous _than you_?”

Hal sat down on the bed, mollified.  “He’s right, Rose.  I _am_ dangerous,” she whispered quietly.

_“Bollocks!”_ exclaimed Rose in frustration, her accent suddenly becoming more pronounced.  “The oth’a Doctor said ‘e was dangerous, too.”  

The Doctor deflated, paling at the mention of the other Doctor’s harsh words.  He realised, with deep regret, that he’d been a hypocrite to hold Hal to a double standard for trying to kill one man when he’d killed so many.  He hung his head in shame, unwilling to meet Hal’s or Rose’s eyes.

“But look at ‘im!” Rose continued.  “I watched ‘im beg you not to kill Ronaldo.  He wasn’t gonna let ya do it, even whilst he was so angry at ‘im that he wanted to kill ‘im ‘imself.”

“And Doctor,” Rose said, addressing him directly, “if Hal is so dangerous, why din’t she kill Ronaldo before we got there?  She din’t go off until ‘e tried t’ stab ya in the heart?  She was ‘bout to be raped, but she din’t do anythin’ ‘til _your_ life was endangered?  Sounds t’ me like she was more concerned ‘bout _you_ than she was for ‘er own safety!”

Out of breath, Rose looked from one to the other, waiting for a response.  The Doctor and Hal simply stared dejectedly down at the floor.

“Ok, it’s obvious that you’re both powerful an’ daft aliens with hot tempers, but that you care a great deal for each other,” Rose told them.  “So, enough is enough.  Kiss and make up!”

They both stared at Rose in open-mouthed amazement.

“Kiss and make up?” squeaked the Doctor, grimacing.  “What are we?  Four year-olds?”

Rose crossed her arms.  “Tony is four, an’ he acts ‘way more mature,” she spat.  “Now go on, or I’ll call Mum up here right now!”

Needing no further prodding, the Doctor sat down next to Hal, who obstinately turned her head away.  He nudged her with a shoulder, causing her to bob a bit to the side, but she still refused to acknowledge his presence.  

“Oh, come on now,” the Doctor said with a pout.  “I’m sorry.  So, so sorry.  I was wrong.  I guess I was just angry with you because you danced like a trollop with some creepy bloke I didn’t know and then got in trouble.”

“What?!?” Hal yelped, whipping her head around to glower at the Doctor.  Rose put her hand over her brow and shook her head in disgust.  “Are you tellin’ me that I somehow brought this onto myself by _dancin’_???” Hal blustered.

“Oh, no, no, no!  It’s just that you need to let me screen them first, so that you don’t dance wantonly with some nutter… like Ronaldo.”

“Oh, how very quaint of you,” Hal said, voice dripping with sarcasm.  “So you’ve gone from channelling historical Temperance figures, to channelling my brother-in-law, Alan, from across the Void?”

“He screens your dance partners?  Oh, wait… and your boyfriends, I take it?”

Hal blushed.  “Maybe,” she pouted.

“Good man,” he chortled.  “Now pucker up!”

“No way!” Hal squawked, placing her hands over her face.  She squealed and struggled when the Doctor embraced her and placed a loud kiss on her forehead, but then she started giggling uncontrollably at the silliness of the situation.  Picking up a pillow from the bed, she whacked him hard a couple of times before willingly embracing him in a tight hug.

“Alright,” Rose said with a smile.  “Now that that’s all sorted, how about we go downstairs for a few drinks and a snack?  In the den, where Pete keeps the good stuff?”

Hal and the Doctor embraced Rose as they walked to the door, and the three skipped down the stairs to raid the kitchen.

A few hours later, Jackie and Pete trudged wearily back into the living section of the mansion.  Carrying her shoes in her hand and walking gingerly in stocking feet, Jackie stopped as she heard dance music coming from the den.

“It’s almost 1.00 am,” she grumbled.  Guess he didn’t get enough partyin’ in?”

“The three of ‘em had a rough night, love.  Let ‘em make up for it,” Pete said.  “I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”  Jackie stalked up to the den entrance and leaned to peek around the corner.  The first thing she noticed was a line of partially-empty liquor bottles on the bar.  The blender sat half-filled with a pinkish liquid, rubber lid askew and drips running down the sides of the container.  A bowl of popcorn on the coffee table was surrounded by loose kernels scattered over the table and on the floor. 

In the clearest area behind the sofas, the Doctor, Rose and Hal were line dancing and singing to disco music, rocking out to an old K.C. and the Sunshine Band song playing on the rack stereo.  Positioned on either side of the Doctor, Rose and Hal sang the chorus to “Give It Up” as he took the main melody, swinging long arms comically in the air.  His spindly arms waved wildly above them, forming the appearance of a large spider monkey gyrating in sync with the two smaller women.

In spite of the visual contrast between the three dancers, the Doctor’s lyric baritone blended well with Rose’s sweet soprano and Hal’s rich, slightly lower tones.  Hal smiled broadly while the Doctor and Rose wore beatific grins as all three checked each other’s steps.  They were enjoying themselves too much to notice Jackie and Pete’s heads poking around the arched entrance.

“Oh, look at them, Pete!” Jackie sighed tearfully.  “Can you believe it?”

Pete shook his head.  “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone do the Hustle in bloody decades.  Maybe my Dad when I was a kid.”

“No, silly!  I meant how they’re smilin’.  Have ya seen the both of ‘em that happy since they got here?  Even once?”

“Looks like they did some damage to my fine liquor supply.  Might have somethin’ to do with it.”

Jackie jabbed her elbow into Pete’s ribs, almost falling onto her face in the process.  

“Now, don’t go bookin’ any reception halls, Jacks,” he warned her, breaking her fall.  “Let ‘em figure it out on their own, ok?  He seems to be doin’ jus’ fine without your… intervention.”

Jackie pulled a face, but waited with him until the three dancers turned their backs to them.  They quickly tiptoed stealthily past the entrance, making their way up the stairs undetected.

After a few more songs, Hal dropped onto a sofa while stifling a conspicuous yawn.  Rose joined her, slumping down and draping an arm over her forehead. 

“Aw, come on,” moaned the Doctor a bit peevishly as he walked around to face the two women.  “It’s only 1.36 am.  You can’t be tired yet.”

“That’s three and a half hours past my bedtime, Doctor,” Hal groaned wearily.  “I’m getting too old to dance all night.”

Frowning, the Doctor said nothing as he stared into space.

“What’s wrong?” asked Rose, slightly concerned.

“I knew what time it was,” he muttered.  “I mean, _exactly_ what time.”

“But you’re a Time Lord.  Aren’t ya s’pose to know what time it is?” 

He flicked his eyes to a clock on the mantle, scratching his chin thoughtfully.  “Of course.  But this is the first time I recall not having to consciously recalibrate my time sense to this universe.  My natural time sense has been off since I got here.”

“Time lag,” laughed Hal.  “Sort of like jet lag for Time Lord’s?  You may have finally adjusted to this universe’s time stream.”

“Well, good to know it’s not permanent.  It vexed me to have to consciously derive time,” he smiled.  Slipping his watch off his wrist, he dangled it in the air.  “Cartier, anyone?”

“Good thing ya didn’t do that at the party,” grinned Rose.  “You would’ve been mobbed.”

“You’re kidding,” Hal snorted.  “You wear a Cartier watch while driving a little hybrid car?”

“What’s wrong with my hybrid?” he pouted.

“Nothing, it’s just not a 911.  I miss my 911 already,” Hal sighed.

“It’s only been a night, Hal,” chided the Doctor.  “What were you going to do?  Sleep with it?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed in amusement.  “Now, there’s an idea I hadn’t thought about.  I’ll need to get a bigger bed, though.”

The Doctor shook his head disapprovingly.  “What is it with you and mechanical things, anyway?” 

“Parts is parts… and hydraulics is hydraulics,” Hal teased him with a wicked smile.

“Spoken like a true scientist with a mechanical fiancé,” the Doctor playfully retorted.  “And you’re grammatically incorrect, I might add!”

“Thank you, Professor Higgins,” she said dryly.  Hauling herself up with another groan, Hal stretched and yawned.  “Well, I’m off to bed.  I’ve had a rather interesting day.  When is breakfast?”

“About 10.00, so really brunch.  I don’t expect Jackie to be up much sooner than that.  I’ll probably go for a run first.  Are you staying the night, Rose?”

Rose nodded, trying to stop a yawn from erupting.  “I think I will,” she said.  “I have a few clothes upstairs that still fit me.  No makeup, though,” she frowned.

“You don’t need any makeup!” both the Doctor and Hal insisted simultaneously.  They glanced at each other, aghast at their identical outbursts.  

“Don’t cover your beauty with makeup,” Hal said as she recovered.  “Let your skin breath.”

“May not say that after you see me at breakfast,” chuckled Rose.  She rose from the sofa and moved toward the entrance.  “See you both in the morning!”

“Goodnight!” Hal and the Doctor said, once again in unison.

“You’re creeping me out, Doctor,” Hal said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I was about to say the same thing,” he chortled, catching Hal in an affectionate hug as she swayed in exhaustion.  “Get some rest.  You’ve had a really long and eventful day.”

“Hmmm… yeah.  See you in the morning,” she whispered as she headed upstairs.  He watched her walk slowly out of the room, then cleaned up their mess of popcorn and drinks before retiring.

                                                ******************************************

Something woke the Doctor from a sound sleep.  He lay quietly, listening in the silence with eyes closed as the chilly fingers of anxiety passed through him.  The faint sound of a snuffle drifted into his room as he strained to identify its location.  Before he could determine who made the noise, he felt a wisp of panic and fear.  But it wasn’t his emotions; they were coming from down the hallway.

His eyes snapped open, landing blurrily on the bedside clock.  It confirmed his time sense that it was a little after 3.15 am, not long after he’d gone to bed.  He jumped to his feet and threw on his bathrobe before padding barefoot down to the end of the hallway, stopping in front of Hal’s closed door to listen again.  

A soft keening wafted through the wooden door, sounding not unlike the whimpering of a sleeping puppy.  Rapping softly on the door, he called out to her.

“Hal, are you alright?”  He heard more whimpers and then the sound of struggling.  Hal called out an anguished, breathy “No!”  Her cries were followed by the muffled sound of struggling.

Bursting through the door, heart pounding in alarm, the Doctor ran into the room and stopped.  A duvet was piled on the floor beside the bed.  Alone, Hal struggled fitfully enshrouded tightly in the sheets, groaning and whipping her head back and forth as if fighting against an unseen foe.  He dropped to his knees beside the bed and gently shook her shoulder to try to rouse her.

“Hal, wake up.  You’re dreaming,” he said softly.  He nudged her again and again, but Hal fought even harder.  He climbed into the bed and tried to extract her from the twisted sheet, calling imploringly to her in an attempt to wake her from her nightmare.  Her face and red silk pyjamas were drenched in perspiration; her fine wispy hair clung to her forehead in shiny tangled mats, like flattened beds of beached kelp, as she twitched and jerked away from him.  The Doctor pulled her into his arms, rocking her gently as he called to her in her ear.  

“Oh, Hal, love… Please wake up!  You’ve got to wake up.  It’s only a nightmare.”  A plaintive howl rose from her throat as she stiffened, eyes still clenched tightly shut.  “What am I going to do with you?” the Doctor groaned.  Suddenly her eyes flew open, glazed and unseeing, fixated on images deep within her psyche.  In a panic, he placed fingertips at her temple and desperately dove into her mind… and encountered a swirling maelstrom of horrific images and emotions that stunned even him with his 900 years of experience.

_A storm of emotion buffeted him;_ _fear, humiliation, agony, helplessness, loneliness and despair.  Torture and beatings, injections and invasive procedures, excruciating shocks and drowning; and far, far worse.  Confinement in a 10’x10’ room empty of all but equipment and a monitor displaying planet after planet cracking, splintering, shattering, burning; her unwilling hands at the control.  The psychic screams of millions reverberating through her head, crying out in terror and extreme suffering.  Shame, recrimination, self-hatred… disgrace.  Hatred.  Terrible, all-consuming hatred for the ones who used her radiated from her centre, howling for revenge and retribution…_

“Oh, no, Hal!  No!” moaned the Doctor, fearful for Hal’s sanity.  “Don’t let the Darkness take you!  You’re so much better than that.  Don’t let it win!”  Tears of heartbreak and empathy rose unbidden to his eyes and threatened to spill, but he didn’t feel them.  He could only feel the anguish of the woman in his arms and a desire to assuage her pain.

He let himself wash over her in a tide of love, hope, acceptance and reassurance, and offered her safe harbour.  He felt her rush to meet him.  Their minds touched, and then he felt her mind slide into his and his deeper into hers.  He showed her how he saw her; how brave, how powerful, how brilliant, artistic and loyal; how much he admired her rebellious and inquisitive character.  He saw how she secretly quelled and marvelled at his power, of his innate ability to sense and manipulate Time and Space, of his vast intellect and capacity for forgiveness and of his strong drive to right what was wrong.  They threw open the mental doors to their thoughts and memories, dropping the barriers between them in a show of trust.

Together, they mourned the lives they had taken; cried for the lives they had failed to save; cried for Gallifrey and other living planets destroyed forever.  They grieved for the people they knew they would never be, for the childhoods lost, for the irreparable damage that had been done.  They wept for friends, families and lovers lost to time, distance or circumstances.  They clung to hope against insurmountable odds, the odds against snatching back a fraction of what the Universe had taken from them, and they resolved to beat them.

He felt Hal relax as their minds slowly unravelled each from the other.  They drew slightly apart and stared, feeling the strong pulse of the new bond they’d just forged.  Hal was trembling, still shaken by the terrifying images of her dream.  A single tear coursed down her cheek, which the Doctor tenderly scrubbed away with his thumb.

“What have we done?” she whispered in a tremulous voice.

“What was always meant to be,” he smiled gently.  She reached through their newly formed bond, and he showed her the intertwining timelines.  

“None of us would be here if you hadn’t come through the rift,” he explained.  “You were meant to be here.  Our lives… yours, Rose’s and mine… they are interconnected somehow.  I knew there was something special about you from the moment we met, although I had no idea things would take the turn they did.”

“Does that mean I’m stuck here forever?  That my destiny is to remain here for the rest of my life?”

“Oh, no… no, no, no,” he said with a shake of his head.  “Do you really think it is a coincidence that one of the most skilled navigators in the multiverse with knowledge of how to travel through wormholes, knowledge that even the last of the Time Lords doesn’t have, would slip through a rift in Time-Space where a twin Time Lord would eventually appear?  And that somehow out of the billions of people on the planet you would meet said twin, who just happens to have a piece of living TARDIS coral?”

Hal sighed sadly.  “I wish Elly and Alan were here.  They could give you a proper welcome to the family.  You have a new sister and brother-in-law, you know,” she said with a tearful smile.  “You’d feel them through our bond, if they weren’t… if they…”

“Stop it,” he interrupted softly.  “Don’t think about that.  And let me get used to having one new sister first, eh?”

She nodded slowly, wearily as he eased her flat in bed and straightened her covers.  

“You’ll see them soon, ok?  We just need transport, some data, our brilliant brains, and a little luck,” he said as he picked up the duvet and tucked it around her shivering body.  He kissed her on the forehead as he prepared to head back to his bedroom.

“Stay?” Hal asked in a small voice, biting her lower lip.

“You want me to stay until you fall back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” she nodded bashfully.

He smiled and climbed into the bed on top of the duvet, pulling Hal close to his side as he cradled her head on his shoulder.

“Your feet are going to get cold,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Aww, they’re alright.  Warmer than a Time Lord, but still pretty cool, so I won’t feel it.  Besides, better cold feet than getting other parts bobbed by Jackie if she catches me in your bed,” he said with a wink.

Hal snorted a laugh before drifting off to sleep within a few minutes.  The Doctor listened to her lengthening breath to assure himself she wasn’t resuming her nightmare.  Unable to resist, he traced the link between them, marvelling at how strong and comforting the low level hum was, now that she was asleep.  He felt as if he had been granted a great gift; one that helped alleviate the aching hole in his chest; the hole that he had never hoped to have filled again.  If this was a true sibling bond, how much more powerful would a marriage bond be?  

He touched the faint and atrophied link he now knew he shared with Rose, hoping to find a way to strengthen it… soon.  How he had managed not to notice their link before surprised him, although he must have known on a subconscious level.  Instinctively, he must have sensed that his intense feelings for her would have resulted in a permanent pair-bond had he touched her mind.  The severance of such an intimate bond would have threatened his very existence.  Typically for him, he had resisted.  Always a rebel at heart, he had managed not to form a marriage bond even with his Gallifreyan wife, who didn’t seem to mind in the least. 

Had he continued the Time Lord meditation discipline as he should, he would have noticed the formation of a psychic link, ever so tenuous, with Rose.  He undoubtedly would have understood the significance; of how Rose shared a special relationship with the TARDIS when she became the Bad Wolf entity; of how his and Rose’s links to the TARDIS wove them into an intricate unit across all Time-Space.

_“The Doctor.  In the TARDIS.  With Rose Tyler.  Just as it should be.”_

Oh, his other self had known, even then on that bitterly cold beach when his hearts had spoken the Truth his huge Time Lord brain hadn’t yet fully fathomed.  Had the full Time Lord known the link existed, would he have ever let her go?  Or had he figured it out and that was why he had pushed them away?  Some day he hoped to ask him…

Extricating himself from Hal, who shifted slightly in her sleep, he arose from the bed.  An aching exhaustion washed over him as he closed the door, leaving it opened a crack so that he could hear if Hal succumbed to another nightmare.  The excitement of the past evening and their bonding had taken its toll.

Crawling into his bed, he sighed as his protesting body relaxed into the mattress.  He touched the bond again in wonder, assuring himself again that it would alert him if Hal needed him.  Smiling at the faint hum, he reflected on how much it reminded him of the bonds he once shared with his children.  He felt the sting of unshed tears at the loss, but also at the comfort of the new proper bond now partially filling the horrendous void in his mind.  Sending a wave of tender affection toward his slumbering sister, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

******************************************

Waking at exactly 7.00 am, the Doctor grinned and rejoiced as he rolled over to squint at the clock.  It was precisely the time he had wanted to awake for his morning run.  Jumping out of bed and stretching, he reached through his bond to check Hal, who seemed to be on the verge of waking.  He rifled through his closet for a tracksuit and settled on a brown pair that he quickly pulled on.

He tiptoed quietly down the stairs and let himself out of the house, trotting out to the pathway at the edge of the woods.  The warmth of the rising sun was filtering through the leaves as songbirds greeted it excitedly.  Taking a deep sniff of the fresh air, he set off at a slow jog.  A slow jog for a Time Lord, that is.  

He picked up speed, powering into a small hill.  His heart was singing in a new found joy, his feet so light that it felt as if they were flying over air.  His life was truly beginning to fall together now.  He and Rose were repairing their relationship.  They were now roughly where they should have been on landing upon that dratted beach.  He had a family, a meaningful job, friends, mental challenges to pursue, adventures to be had.  The greatest adventure of all awaited him, and his feet were firmly on the path toward it.

He charged down the incline going full speed, the woods thickening as the footpath narrowed.  His entire body seemed to crackle with power and energy, more than he’d felt since the War.  He couldn’t repress the whoop of joy that erupted.

_Trying to wake the neighbours on a lazy Sunday morn?_

The Doctor slowed with a start at the voice in his head.  Looking around, he tried to locate the owner of the voice, which he recognised immediately as Hal’s.  A flash at his side made him drop his eyes to the tan wolf loping only inches from his left heel, her profoundly blue eyes laughing at him.  They slowed to a stop before he crouched to throw his arms around the wolf’s neck in a tight embrace.

_Do you always greet wolves that way?_

“Aww, I knew it was you!” he grinned.  “Not too many wolves running ‘round in jolly old England, and certainly not solid tan-coloured wolves with dark blue eyes.”

_Eye colour is the only thing that doesn’t change when we shift,_ she told him.  

“That’s brilliant, so I’ll always know it’s you!”

_Lucky for you._ _If I were a real wolf, I’d have taken off your face by now, you know,_ said Hal drily.

“Oooh, don’t say that,” he said with a grimace, remembering the Wire.

_And you don’t need to speak out loud, either,_ she chided him _.  Just focus your thoughts along the bond and project the words, or feelings.  This shouldn’t be new to you._

_Sorry,_ he sent her contritely. _It’s… it’s just been so very long since I’ve…_

_I could tell,_ Hal laughed wolfishly. _You were projecting so strongly that there’s probably not a telepath within a parsec who didn’t feel it._

_I was projecting?!? To everyone?!_  A horrified look came over his features at the realisation his thoughts had not been private.

_You’re just rusty and undisciplined.  When’s the last time you’ve practiced?_

_I dunno.  Decades.  Nobody to practice with,_ he pouted.

_Well, now there is.  And you need to start meditating and practicing if you’re to form a proper bond with Rose._

_Oh, Rose…_ he muttered, concern etched all over his face.  _How am I gonna tell her?  Do I tell her about what happened last night?_

_Well, of course you tell her, dolt.  Today would be a good time.  You don’t want her to find out later and think you were hiding it from her.  Trust is the backbone of every bond._

_I’m not sure if I can even stop it from happening, Hal.  If we were ever to become… well… intimate… I don’t see how I could prevent it from happening._ He was thankful for the low light, given how hotly his face burned.  He was sure he could share anything with Hal, but he couldn’t help feeling bashful discussing a delicate subject like intimacy with Rose.  Over 900 years as a man, and here he was blushing like a callow youth.

_Perhaps,_ Hal mused.  _But remember that she is not a naturally strong or trained telepath.  She will need instruction to understand what a bond is, what to expect, and how sometimes what she’ll see and feel is not what it seems._

He nodded, staring at Hal as his mind pursued another oblique angle.  _Can we talk about your dream last night?_   Hal’s hackles rose before she turned her head to stare into the distance and shivered slightly.

_Can we go someplace sunny?  And warm…_ she asked quietly.

_Know just the place,_ he smiled. _A clearing not far down the path.  I’ll race you!_

He took off like a shot, gathering speed before running flat out down the pathway.  Hal fell in behind him.  She put on a burst of speed to close the distance, and within a few strides she was pacing him.  She felt a twinge of surprise arise from the Doctor as he glanced down to see the wolf easily maintaining his pace.

_Four legs, stupid,_ she shot him, her tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin.  Within minutes they burst into an opening with mist hanging over a grassy area to their right.  The Doctor veered off into the clearing and headed straight toward an outcropping of rock sitting roughly in the middle of the field.  Bounding up onto the crag, they leapt from sheer to sheer until they reached the top.  Arms held high in the air, the Doctor did a Rocky-like victory dance to celebrate his defeat of the four-footed.

Pretending to ignore him, Hal turned around and surveyed the area carefully.  Finally, she sat on her haunches and launched into a full howl, eyes scrunched shut and ears flattened.  Pheasants and other game birds bolted from their hiding places as the sound drifted into the surrounding trees.

_Bet that hasn’t happened in a few hundred years,_ she said with a self-satisfied snort.

_Nooooo_ _… I would think not,_ mulled the Doctor.  _Should anyone come looking for the source of that howl, I’ll just tell them you’re my dog._

_Hey,_ growled Hal, baring her teeth.  _Fangs._ _Face._

_A very, very, very **rare and beautiful** breed, mind, _ he conceded quickly with his hands raised in supplication.  _Lovely pelt, too!_

_Fur,_ she corrected, growl increasing in volume by the second.  _It’s called fur.  It’s only a pelt if I’m not in it!_

It was becoming exceedingly clear to the Doctor that he was digging himself in deeper with his shifter companion, so he decided a change of subject was the best course of action.  Changing subjects was his speciality, after all.

_So, let’s talk about your dream last night, Hal.  Do you suffer often from nightmares like that?_

Hal’s ire deflated somewhat.  She crouched down to lie with her forepaws over the edge of the sheer, glancing shyly at the Doctor from the corner of her eye.

_You saw it,_ she said point-blank. 

_Is it always the same?_

_Sometimes,_ she answered cryptically.

Crawling over to her side, her wrapped his long arms around her neck and laid his head against the top of hers.  He felt Hal sigh deeply, but she didn’t resist him.

_I’m only trying to help, Hal.  You scared me last night,_ he said softly.  _I wasn’t sure if you were coming back from that.  It felt like much more than a dream.  I have nightmares all the time, and I can usually tell the difference between traumatic memory and your common variety nightmare.  Which was that?_

_I wish I knew,_ she stated flatly. _As I mentioned before, I was retconned. I have no frame of reference to tell the difference, and even Elly blocked out everything she knows.  If, in fact, the nightmares are memory leakage, it is not a good thing.  The return of memories heralds the return of madness, or so I’ve been told._

The Doctor tightened his arms around her neck.  _I won’t let you go mad, Hal.  It doesn’t matter if they’re memories or not._

Hal sat up to break the Doctor’s fierce hold.  She licked him once gently under the chin.  _Unfortunately, the nightmares have steadily increased in frequency over the past five years.  They were very rare until I came here._ She looked deeply into his eyes.  _Perhaps it was Elly’s influence that kept them at bay.  If so, then perhaps it is you who will keep me sane now._

_Or we can be mad together,_ he grinned.  _You’ve seen what’s in my head._

_I’ve also seen what isn’t in your head, and that is what we need to address,_ Hal reminded him, flashing him an image of Rose.

_Oooh_ _, breakfast with the Tyler gang._ _Almost forgot about that.  I also need to type up a report on Torchwood letterhead for Pete,_ he grimaced.  _Looks like it will be late, and he hates missed deadlines!_

_Ever ridden bareback?_ Hal asked casually.

_Over 900 years-old, me._ _Of course I’ve ridden bareback,_ he huffed in irritation.He paused after a second. _We’re talking about horses, aren’t we?_ he checked.

_Sort of,_ she said as she bounded down the crag to wait expectantly at the foot.  The Doctor followed her.

_Turn around,_ she ordered him.  _I’ll let you know when you can turn back._ He did as he was told, fighting the impulse to peer around his shoulder.  _No peeking!_ Hal warned.

_Ok, you can turn around now,_ she said after about ten seconds.  In the wolf’s place was a pure white unicorn, about the height of a Welsh Cob at about 14 hands but a bit slimmer and daintier.  In the middle of her forehead grew a spiralling greyish-blue iridescent horn at least three feet in length, ending in a wickedly sharp point.  Her silky-looking mane glinted in the sun as it cascaded down her graceful neck, but it wasn’t overly long at about 8 inches.  The only spot of colour on her body was a large 12 inch swirl of grey on her right flank that strongly resembled a spiral galaxy with sweeping arms.  Her eyes, while horse-like, remained a startling crystalline deep blue.

The Doctor could only stare at her, mouth agape in pure astonishment and admiration.  “Oh, you are just _gorgeous_ ,” he cried out aloud once he regained his voice.  “Look at you!” he chirped in pure excitement, laughing delightedly.  “You’re a flippin’ unicorn!  How cool is that?!?”

Hal flicked her long tail in exasperation.  _How is this more impressive than a wolf?_

“Are you kidding me?” he said, pacing animatedly and forgetting all about practicing his telepathy.  “Unicorns are just _brilliant!_ That… that… that is simply a work of art, Hal.  Not too many proper unicorns in the universe, or I’d have seen them.  Very rare, unicorns, and always have been.  Stand there, ‘cause I’m gonna hug you… right now.”

Hal sighed and snorted gently as the Doctor strode over for his hug, wrapping his long arms around her neck in another tight embrace.

_Enough with the love-fest,_ she grumbled.  _Get on or you’ll be late with your report for sure.  Don’t think I do this on a regular basis, by the way.  You can count the number of people who’ve had the privilege on one hand._

Grasping a fistful of her mane and her withers, he hoisted himself onto her back and scooted up.  Hal twisted her head around to roll one eye at him.  _Stop pulling on the mane, please._

_Ooops_ _, sorry,_ he apologised silently, holding both hands up to show her he’d let go.

She set off at a trot as the Doctor bounced precariously on her back, trying desperately not to yank at the tempting mane in front of him.

_Are you **sure** you’ve ridden bareback before? _Hal asked as they reached the edge of the woods and entered the footpath.

_Yup,_ he answered, somehow managing to pop his P telepathically.

Hal increased her speed to a cantor, and then a full gallop as the Doctor dug in his heels trying to maintain his seat.  The glint coming from the tip of Hal’s horn ominously reminded him not to grab a handful of mane, so he leaned forward placing both hands on the sides of her neck underneath her mane to brace himself.  Just as he thought he was beginning to get the hang of it, they approached the end of the path near the Tyler mansion.

_You’re really rubbish at this, aren’t you?_ Hal chuckled. _Ever considered riding lessons?_

He slid off and stood gingerly, rubbing his derriere and adjusting his trousers in the front, face contorted in pain.

_I think I just got one,_ he moaned.  _A really hard one._ _I may be sittin’ on a blasted pillow for the rest of the day!_

Hal gave him an evil laugh.  

_And you said “rubbish” for a change,_ he grinned. _Usually, you say something crass like… I’m crap, or…I suck… or even worse,_ he trailed off.

_Well, obviously you’re a bad influence and corrupting my perfect American English.  Now go on and get your report done.  I’ll see you at breakfast._ She turned to trot back down the path.

_Where are you going?  The house is that way,_ he pointed.

_To find my clothes?_ _I doubt the Tylers or their staff would appreciate seeing me strut into their home stark naked._

_What?!  You have to get starkers to change?  That’s rather inconvenient,_ he said.

_Tried forming clothes._ _Not very good at it,_ she explained.  _You wouldn’t mistake them for real clothes, anyway.  Tried changing colours once.  Ended up looking blue all over… and naked, sort of like Mystique in the Fantastic Four movie.  Not exactly my best look._

_Oh, I don’t know,_ he said teasingly. _Would have been a smashing outfit at the Torchwood party, I bet!_

He ran to the mansion giggling hysterically when Hal lowered her horn, stamping a hoof at him.

                                                **********************************************

The Doctor quickly showered and dressed for breakfast before preening over 15 minutes on his hair.  Finally satisfied, he typed up a report for Pete, hitting the print button before rushing downstairs.

Hal was already in the dining room; her hair still moist from her shower.  He saw that Jackie had placed her to the left of his customary position.  Rose was also present right across from Hal, and they were engaged in friendly conversation.  Both women looked up at his entrance and beamed smiles at him.  He stopped, unable to stop staring at a Rose devoid of all makeup.  

He choked out a greeting around the firm lump in his throat, and forced himself to break his gaze to assume his place at the table.  Pete mumbled a greeting, or what sounded like a greeting.  Tony ignored his entrance as he pushed his toy dinosaur through a bowl of hot cereal.  Rose self-consciously nibbled on a piece of toast as her mother returned to the table with a jar of marmalade.

Of course, he had seen Rose before without makeup.  He had, after all, jumped onto her bed many a morning to wake her for a new adventure.  But those mornings had while she was on the TARDIS, and the dynamics of their relationship had been firmly established long before when he was his ninth self.  She had always been beautiful to him, but she had also been unattainable… forbidden… his Muse and his Galatea; a glorious figure of perfection that must always remain on her pedestal, untouched and unsullied by such as he.  

But, no longer was she forbidden; the only one who _could_ claim her had passed that claim to him.  Her formidable mother, who was the only one who could rightly deny him, had given him her blessings.  He had been given a new body, new tasks, a new universe, a whole new life that were as if designed to fit her, and her alone.  She was his very _raison d'être_.  

Yet, he remains convinced he cannot possibly deserve her, may never deserve her.  He seeks absolution, and only she can guide him to it.  Like Dante guided by his Beatrice, he would follow his Rose to the very lowest levels of Hell and back, if only to be worthy to gaze into her eyes.  He may have but one heart now; worthy or not, it burned for the woman who sat across the table from him.  

He felt a gentle mental nudge from Hal, sending him a bolstering wave of support and encouragement.  He smiled at her and squeezed her hand under the table, an action that did not go unnoticed by Rose or Jackie.  Pete, on the other hand, sat at the end of the table with his head in his hands.  He noticed nothing except the pounding in his head.  

He saw Rose and Jackie turn deathly pale as they looked at each other in confusion.  Realising that they had gotten the wrong idea, he cleared his throat.

“Uhm… I have a little announcement to make,” he ventured in a small voice.  Everyone stared at him expectantly, except Tony, who made roaring noises as his dinosaur noshed farina… and Hal, who stared pointedly at her toast.  

“Hal and I… bonded… last night.  We’re technically, for all practical purposes… brother and sister now.”

A thunderous silence fell over the table.  Rose frowned in an attempt to understand, tilting her head to the side before addressing him.

“You’re… you’re... bonded?  You mean, telepathically or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “A psychic bond.  A… uhm… permanent psychic and emotional bond formed between two telepaths when they’re in a close sibling relationship.”

Pete may have been hung over, but he was also very quick.  

“So you’re a telepath, Hal?” he asked.

Hal met his eyes and nodded.  “We were going to tell you at our meeting later today.  Amongst other things we have to tell you.”

“I’m still not getting’ it,” Jackie grumbled.  “When did this happen?  How can she become your sister?”

“It happened last night, when Hal had a nightmare,” the Doctor tried to explain quickly before Jackie got too wound up.  “I couldn’t wake her, so I had to contact her… mind to mind… to snap her out of it.  That’s when it happened.  Our emotional closeness was so much like a brother-sister relationship that the bond formed.  We didn’t plan it that way, I assure you.”

“Soooo, you have a sister now?” drawled Rose, squinting her eyes at the two.

“Yeah,” he responded again, not sure what else he could safely say before talking to Pete.

“Yaaaaaay!” shouted Tony.  “We got another wolf in da family now!”

“What?” they all blurted out at once.  Hal paled.

“Yeah,” continued Tony, oblivious to the commotion he created.  “Rosie’s a wolf an’ she’s a wolf.  An’ if she’s da Doctor’s sister, we got two in da family!”

Panicking that Tony had somehow seen Hal in her wolf form this morning, he turned to Tony for more clues.  

“Where’d you see a wolf, Tony?  Did you see a wolf this morning?  In the yard?”

“Naw,” he answered, suddenly suspicious.  “I jus’ know.  Like I know Rosie is a wolf.”

“So you know of two wolves?”

“Naw, three!  There’s three wolfs,” he said, speaking to the Doctor as if he were stupid.  “See?  One, two, three…” he said, counting on his fingers.

“Wait,” the Doctor shook his head in befuddlement, “Rose, Hal and…?”

Tony shrugged.  “I dunno.  She’s got a funny name.  You know!  You saw ‘er, Doctor.  Great big white wolf.  She was with da white lion, remember?  The big ginormous lion?”

It was the Doctor’s turn to go pale.  He felt the urge to heave, and he hadn’t yet eaten anything.  Hal put a hand on his arm to steady him.

“What does he mean, Doctor?  A white lion and a white wolf?” she asked in a whispery voice.  

“A dream I had a few weeks ago.  I don’t know how he knew,” he responded in a low voice.

“Makin’ up stories, are ya?” Rose asked, turning to Tony with a patronising smile.

“No! I’m not makin’ nothin’ up,” he insisted.  “An’ there’s another lion and a big dragon, too!  But they’re far, far away.  You ain’t seen ‘em yet, Doctor.”

Gasping, Hal reeled and appeared as if she would faint.  Her complexion had turned a sickly grey as she trembled.

“What is it?” the Doctor asked in wide-eyed concern.

“It can’t be, can it?  Can he be talking about… “

“This is another one of them alien things you do, ain’t it?” Jackie glared at the Doctor.  “What is my baby Tony goin’ on about, anyway?”

“Jackie, I’m just as confused as you are,” he retorted.  

“You’re the one sayin’ you’re bondin’ with women an’ stuff.  Don’t you dare… I mean, don’t you ever dare t’do that bondin’ thing with my Rose and make ‘er ya sister, you git!”

“Oh, no!” yelped the Doctor in horror.  “That would never, ever happen, Jackie!  Never… never, ever, ever!” he emphasised, hands waving frantically in a defensive motion.

“But… what’s wrong with me?” Rose asked in a hurt tone.  “Why couldn’t ya bond with me?  “Cause… ‘cause I’m human, or somethin’?”

“Oh, no, Rose!  I can bond with you, believe me, I really can!  I want to!  Just… just not as my… uh… sister.”

“Then what?” she shook her head slowly, not quite grasping the entire bonding concept.

“Well, it’s more like… I mean, we’d be… if you want… I mean, we could…” he ground to a halt, gesturing back and forth in a Seinfeld-like motion to indicate mutual interaction between them. “We could be… sort of… closer?” he gulped, half keeping an eye on Jackie lest he needed to run.  “A bit closer… than siblings, that is?” he added hesitantly.

A spark of understanding flared in Rose’s eyes.  Her face relaxed into an indecipherable Mona Lisa smile that slowly thawed out the Time Lord’s fear-stricken palpitating heart.  It relieved him immensely that she didn’t seem horrified at the idea; perhaps even wanting it, he thought wistfully.

“Well, I’m glad everyone else is gettin’ it, ‘cause I still don’t,” mocked Jackie.  “What’s all this gotta do with Tony?  An’ what is he on about with lions, and tigers and bears?”

“Oh, my!” said the Doctor and Hal together, both struggling to prevent grins from taking over their faces.  Pete snorted in amusement, but took one glance at Jackie’s face before sobering up.

Pete’s gaze settled on the Doctor.  “Doctor?” he asked expectantly.

“Different subject altogether, actually.  You might remember that I had a dream about a lion a few weeks ago when I took a kip, and Tony asked me if I’d seen a large lion afterwards.  I was supposed to query him about that later, but I forgot.”

Pete nodded slowly.  “Ok, I remember that… somewhat.”

“There was also a large wolf in the dream.  A large _white_ wolf.  The lion was pure white, as well, but I never mentioned any of those facts to Tony, ever.”  

“And what about Rose and Hal being wolves?  I understand how there might be a connection to Rose, but not Hal,” Pete asked, his look clearly stating the Doctor should choose his words carefully in front of Tony and Jackie.

“Perhaps we should save that for our meeting today, Pete.  There’s a lot of background information we need to bring you up on first.”

Hal had composed herself by then, but her posture conveyed overt uncertainty and anxiety.  Pete scanned her features carefully as she dropped her eyes.

“It’s a good thing you’re family now, Hal,” said Pete warmly, “otherwise I’d have to lie and say this type of dinner conversation is unusual.”  He smiled when she looked up in astonishment.  The Doctor patted her hand, watching as her shoulders visibly relaxed from their hunched posture.  Just as the family resumed eating, Jackie caught the Doctor’s eye.

“Me and you,” she gestured, “we’re gonna have a little talk after ya finish with Pete!”  

Her expression did nothing to ameliorate the knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, and neither did the waves of mixed emotion radiating from Hal.   He envied her placid features, so unlike his own in this regeneration.  His face seldom hid a single thought, much to his chagrin.  No doubt, Jackie was enjoying watching terror flit across his face, he thought.

Breakfast continued mostly with innocuous nattering.  When finished, the Doctor and Hal quickly excused themselves to prepare for their meeting with Pete.  They both bolted up the stairs to retrieve printouts of the night’s incident report from the Doctor’s room.

“That went over well,” Hal muttered drily.  “I’d better pack up my toothbrush for my trip to Cardiff.  Wonder how I’ll look in vault stripes?”

“Oh, you’ll be fine.  Pete welcomed you to the family, after all,” the Doctor assured her.  “I’ll be the one hanging by my genitalia from the Tyler Estate flagpole by nightfall, when Jackie gets a hold of me.”

“Hmmm, pity.  I didn’t bring my camera.”

“Well, thanks so much for your support, dear sister!” he pouted as he stapled the report together.  “I’ll return the favour in a few minutes when I throw you under the flippin’ bus for tapping into Torchwood’s data.”

Hal childishly stuck her tongue out in retort as they both turned to walk out the door, only to run straight into Rose.  Face turning vivid red, Hal retracted her tongue and pointed at the Doctor in accusation.  “He’s… he’s… totally the most…,” she stammered.

“Yeah, I know,” nodded Rose.  “Use’ta travel with ‘im.  No explanations needed.”

“ _Oi!_   Two against one,” he cried foul.  “No fair!”

All three burst into laughter after a bright grin spread across Rose’s face.  “Was jus’ checkin’ to see if you two was ready to meet with Pete.  Won’t have a lot to say, but I can be moral support.”

“Thank you, Rose.  You don’t know how much that means to me,” said Hal.  “I won’t lie and say I’m not scared, because I am.”

“We’re not exactly normal around here, so ya kinda fit right in.  I use’ta think Tony was the only normal one in the family, but it looks like I’m wrong,” Rose said, looking straight at the Doctor.

“We do need to talk about that, Rose,” he said.  “I’m starting to think that the child of parents from two different dimensions may be quite extraordinary.  Besides, who wants normal?  What’s the fun in that?”

“Oh,” Hal said softly with a shudder.  Her eyes went suddenly round in realisation.

“What is it?” asked the Doctor.

“That explains so much.  That explains why he felt… different, somehow.”

“Is he a strong telepath?  Is that how he accessed my dream?” the Doctor asked in a low voice.

“No, not particularly.  At least, I didn’t detect any indication of strong telepathic skills.  But there are other types of psychic ability.  Maybe he didn’t tap into your dream at all.  And how did he know about my other form?”  She turned to Rose.

“And there is something of the wolf about you, Rose.  I don’t know if the Bad Wolf entity has entirely left you, if at all.”

Shocked, Rose looked from Hal to the Doctor for an explanation.  “You think I’m still the Bad Wolf?”

“Weelll, Tony seems to think so,” drawled the Doctor.  “I certainly didn’t tell him.  I doubt he figured out you were the princess in that story I told him.”

“We can talk about this later,” Rose said.  “Let’s get downstairs to Pete’s office before he comes lookin’ for us.”

Pete’s home office was smaller than his Torchwood office, but as inviting.  Decorated tastefully in a rustic Northwoods theme, it might have led you to believe you were in a rural cabin in Minnesota.  On his desk sat a tray with glasses and a pitcher of Bloody Marys, albeit the pitcher appeared to have quite an imbalance in the ratio between vodka and tomato juice.

“Are we runnin’ out of tomato juice, Pete?” Rose jibed with a cheeky grin.

“No,” he answered simply.  “An’ it’s noon, so I don’t wanna hear it.  Like some?”

Rose and Hal accepted a glass, while the Doctor declined, muttering what sounded like a snide remark about “the Devil’s other fruit.”

“So, start from the beginning,” Pete instructed them as they settled comfortably in leather chairs.  “A lot has happened in the past week since we scheduled this meeting, so I want to know how it all precipitated.”

The Doctor started, explaining that Hal was from the other universe and had been undercover for fear of persecution by Torchwood, and how she was essentially seeking asylum now that she trusted him.  Clearing her throat, Hal began her story with how she came to Pete’s World and became stranded.  Periodically, Pete would stop her for a point of clarification, but essentially let her tell her story mostly uninterrupted.

Because Hal found Pete to be an excellent listener, she soon relaxed and confided her most egregious offenses first, then explained why she had committed them.  In all, it took her a full two hours to fill him in on all the salient points.  Occasionally, the Doctor would pitch in with details surrounding any involvement he had.  Pete wore a poker face through most of the brief, hardly blinking at most of the bizarre retelling.  

“So, let me get this straight,” Pete said in summary.  “You entered this world accidently and found yourself stranded, hid your ship in a rural location, infiltrated Torchwood for your own purposes by forging documentation, eluded detection through data manipulation, tapped unauthorized into highly classified data and replicated the data on your computer at home, borrowed Torchwood technology and took it off the grounds against policy, and tried to kill another Torchwood employee when you were finally uncovered after five years.  Did I get everything?”

Hal swallowed hard and nodded, her face blazing at Pete’s synopsis.  “Yes, Pete.  That’s pretty much it.”

Pete appeared lost in thought for a minute.  “So, what do you think I should do, Hal?”

She gulped softly and took a deep breath before responding.  “Fire me.  Stick me in the vault?”

Pete leaned back, templing his fingers as he raked his gaze over the three of them.

“That’s exactly what I would do,” Pete said quietly.  “If, that is, we were talkin’ about the old Torchwood.”

Hal and the Doctor held their breaths, not daring to say a word as Pete enjoyed his melodramatic show of power over them.  Their deference was not lost on the Torchwood Director.

“You’re one of my best employees, Hal,” Pete finally continued.  “But I can’t ignore what you’ve done.  Believe me, I understand your motivations and how you were afraid of detection.  I might have felt the same in your place.

But the fact is you used deception to infiltrate and use Torchwood and Torchwood property.  For five years you’ve violated my trust, and I can’t completely overlook that.  But I commend you for having the courage, after everything you’ve done, to step forward and make it right.  I know the Doctor probably encouraged you, but you still didn’t have to reveal yourself.  Somehow I doubt he would have blown your cover unless you endangered this family or this world.  

Therefore, here is what I am going to do:  For the next six months you are on disciplinary probation.  Any further unauthorized activity, any further deception, or any endangerment to Torchwood property or personnel, you will be terminated from employment and dealt with as an alien of suspicion.  You don’t want to know what the latter means for you.”

“Doctor,” he said as he turned his attention to the Time Lord, “since you were well aware of Hal’s activities and did not report it, for the length of the probationary period you will be fully responsible for any and all infractions to Torchwood policy committed by Hal.  Is that understood?”

He nodded, keeping his eyes down and sending Hal encouragement through their bond.

“Rose, you will be responsible for sending me a weekly report on the activities of these two, whether Field-related or not.”

Rose smiled and nodded her acquiescence.  

“So am I understood?” he asked the three of them sternly.  “Do I have your agreement with the terms?”

“Yes, sir,” they all responded in turn.

“Good, glad that’s over,” smiled Pete finally.  “Now, somebody tell me what the Devil is goin’ on with my son, ‘cause I am completely confused.”

With a grin and a nod of their heads, the Doctor, Hal and Rose all joined in a refrain:

“Lions and tigers and bears; Oh my!”


	21. Point of Know Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my dear A_Who_in_Whoville. You know this is for you...

 

Pete Tyler was seldom a patient man.  Few business moguls were, and Pete was no exception.  When it came to his family, however, there was no such thing as too much time.

A man of few words, unless hawking his latest business venture to prospective customers or investors, Pete sat quietly with his not-quite daughter listening carefully to fantastical concepts and hypotheses presented by the Doctor.  His son, Tony, was the subject; he would understand if it took explanations for the remainder of the day to achieve.  

“So, this Tokos and Tau,” Pete queried, “we’re not sure if they’re real or simply a figment of your dream?”

“They felt real,” the Doctor said, rubbing his neck earnestly in discomfort.  “Everything about them was in incredible detail, very vivid.  Well, if you can describe _very white_ as vivid.  But every strand of fur, the texture of it, their eyes… they were as real as you are right now, Pete.  Of course, that doesn’t prove anything.  Some of the things Tokos told me were pretty unbelievable.”

“Doctor, my definition of believable has altered significantly since the Cybermen arose.  My mind’s a bit more open to the impossible.”

“But she claimed to exist both inside and outside of everything we know to exist,” said the Doctor with an incredulous look.  “That’s… that’s more like a goddess, not a creature as I know it.”

“To some, you were a god,” Rose pointed out.  “I guess it depends on your frame of reference.”

“True, that’s very true,” he said, still troubled.

Hal frowned slightly, her brows knitted in deep thought.  “What disturbs me the most,” she said quietly, “is their choice of forms.  Why a white wolf and a white lion?”

“Why not a white wolf and a white lion?” asked the Doctor.

Hal took a deep breath, then blew it out.  “My people tend to assume favourite forms; forms that have an affinity for their personalities.  Alan, Elly’s husband, favours the form of a white lion.  Elly herself sometimes assumes the form of a white wolf, although her favoured form is that of a large golden dragon.  When Tony first mentioned a white wolf and lion, I thought there was a possibility he might be referring to Elly and Allen.”

Pete gave them a crooked smile.  “But the numbers wouldn’t add up, if it was only them.  Tokos, the Bad Wolf and Hal make three wolves in total.  Tau and Alan are two white lions.  It’s obvious that Tony sees Tokos and Tau as two discrete beings.  He doesn’t seem to know about, or is ignoring, Elly’s wolf form.”

“But how would he know _any_ of that detail, Pete?  I’d not even told the Doctor about Elly and Alan’s shifter forms,” Hal said.

“No, but I did pick it up from our bond,” the Doctor noted.  “Perhaps he somehow gleaned that from our minds?”

“Not mine,” sniffed Hal.  “Unless he’s a more powerful telepath than even I.”

“Do we know if that’s true or not?” asked Pete.

Hal looked unsure as she turned to Pete.  “No, not really.  I felt something when I met him, but I didn’t detect telepathic skills, per se.  That’s not to say that he doesn’t have them and is innately adept at keeping them hidden, and that’s nearly impossible to do without training.  I won’t know unless… “

“Unless you examine him,” Pete finished flatly, giving Hal a laser beam stare.

“Yes, if you want.  I wouldn’t hurt him, of course.  If he were to resist, I wouldn’t go any further.”

“Is there any other way?” asked Pete.

“Probably not,” interjected the Doctor.  “We would need to see what he’s seen, exactly as he saw it, to determine if he’s truly talking about the same beings I encountered in my dream.”

“Then do it,” Pete said with a sigh.  “But the conditions are that you not scare him, not endanger him in the slightest, and not divulge any of your activities to Jackie in any way without talkin’ to me first.  If she finds out, my goose will be cooked.  If you scare him, I’ll be doin’ the cookin’.”

“Oh, Jackie…” moaned the Doctor, rolling his eyes.  “She said she wanted to talk to me after I finished with you.”

“I’ll take care of Jackie,” Pete said firmly.  “But I think she was thinkin’ primarily of this bondin’ thing.  Explain it to me so that I can head her off.”

The Doctor glanced at Rose and started vigorously rubbing the hair at the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable in discussing the subject in front of Rose.  “Weeelll,” he hemmed, staring at the ceiling, “it’s kind of complicated.  I mean… There’s so many different levels of bonding, you know.  Different purposes, even…”

“I don’t know,” Pete said, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.  “That’s why I asked you to explain it.”

“Well… there’s…uhm… sibling bonds, and that’s what I have with Hal.  And then there’re parental bonds.  Those are between parent and young children, at least on Gallifrey it was only with young children.  It sort of weakened as the child approached the age of eight, which is why Time Lords entered the Academy at that stage…”

“Stop stallin’, Doctor.”

Clearing his throat at Pete’s mild admonishment, the Doctor met Pete’s gaze.  “Some of the most intense bonds in the entire universe are pair-bonds, and telepathic pair-bonds are even more so.  There are many differing levels of pair-bonding depending on the individuals, but there are two main types.  One is what many refer to as a betrothal bond, or a bond of intent to mate.  Betrothal bonds are usually very intense and fairly intimate, during which the couple open their minds to learn as much as they can about the other.  At some point it may strengthen to become a full-fledged marriage bond.  Once a marriage bond is established, mating is complete and the bonding becomes permanent.”

“No such thing as divorce, then?” chuckled Pete.

“If it exists, it is extremely rare,” chimed in Hal.  “I’ve never heard of it happening with a proper bond, and I can’t imagine how it _could_ happen.  Bond severance of a truly mated pair would be devastating.  The pain or withdrawal that resulted could very well cause the death of one or both.  Death of a bond-mate frequently brings on death of the surviving bond-mate, unless there are young children.  A parental bond may exert enough of a strong pull to keep a surviving bond-mate going.”

“Does it happen inna ceremony, or somethin’?” Rose asked, intensely curious.

“Most cultures observe some type of ceremony at the inception of a marriage bond,” answered Hal.  “For telepaths, it is the only true marriage.  A piece of paper means absolutely nothing compared to the merging of minds and cementing of permanent telepathic links.”

The Doctor snorted a laugh.  “On Gallifrey, marriage involved an endless pile of paperwork, family members posturing for roles in the wedding party, political favour trading between rival or colluding Houses, and endless arguments about the potential of the soon-to-be-wedded couple’s children.  And since most marriages were politically arranged and consisted mostly of pomp and ceremony, pair-bonding fell to the wayside as a social convention.  But non-Time Lord Gallifreyans still quietly practiced it.  The biological imperative hadn’t been completely bred out of us.”

“Time Lords were a bunch of stuffy, stuck-up, intolerant bureaucrats who looked down on the plebeian classes,” blustered Hal.  

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” whinged the Doctor.  

Hal rolled her eyes.  “You gonna tell me your wife didn’t fit that mould to a T?”

“ _Wife!?!_ ” Rose blurted out, shocked.

Hal quickly cast her eyes up to the ceiling, guilt written all over her features.

_Oops.  You didn’t tell her, I take it…_ she sent silently.

The Doctor shot her a look that didn’t require telepathy to interpret.

“She’s _dead,_ ” he snapped, glaring straight at Hal.  “Very, _very_ … dead.”  Hal swallowed hard but kept her eyes on the ceiling tiles as if they were the most interesting she’d ever seen.

“We split up when I was late in my first life, when I was a crusty, doddering old man,” the Doctor turned to Rose, still incensed at Hal’s lack of discretion.  “I left her and Gallifrey to travel in the TARDIS with my granddaughter, Susan.  The last time I saw her, ever so briefly, was during my tenure as Lord President of Gallifrey during my fourth life.  She cunningly laid claim to my estates at that time, knowing I wouldn’t fight her.  She died when Gallifrey died, well before you were born, Rose.  We were never bonded.”

“Oh,” Rose said, obviously relieved.  “It’s jus’… ya never told me you were married before.”

“I’m over 900 years-old, Rose.  I’ve done and forgotten more things than most people would accomplish in ten lifetimes.  But Hal is right.  She was a typical Time Lady of her era, and romantic feelings were not something she held in high regard.”

“Well, I think I get the drift,” Pete said to break the uncomfortable silence.  “Looks like you three have a lot to talk about.  Don’t forget, you have a trip comin’ up.  Lot’s of planning to do.”  He stood up and opened the door, half expecting for Jackie to fall into the room.  Jackie did not disappoint.  With a gasp and a shriek, she staggered into the office.

“Jacks!” Pete grinned as he took her by the arm.  “Just the person I wanted to see.”  He gave the Doctor a glance that conveyed a simple message:  _Run!_

The Doctor wasted no time in slipping past the sputtering Jackie as Pete kept a firm grip on her arm.  

“But… but… I need to talk to himself!” Jackie stammered, pointing to the Doctor’s disappearing back.  Hal and Rose trotted past her smiling and following the Doctor down the hallway.

“He lives here, Jackie,” smirked Pete.  “You can talk to him anytime you want.  Let’s sit and have a little discussion about our son,” he said as he shut the door.

The three escapees ran down the hall giggling at their close call and Jackie’s startled expression at being caught eavesdropping.  

“Did you see her face?!?” chortled Hal.

“Pete knew she was there,” laughed Rose.  “Does it all the time, she does.”

“As does someone else,” the Doctor said more soberly, levelling his gaze on Hal.

“Hey!  I can’t help it if you think too loud sometimes,” whinged Hal with a chuckle, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks.

Rose shifted her gaze between the two, all mirth having fled her features.  “What’s it like, havin’ somebody in your head all the time?  What’s it feel like?”  

Hal and the Doctor exchanged glances for a brief second.  “I can show you,” Hal told her soberly.  “Do you trust me?”

Rose hesitated, clearly uncomfortable about a relative stranger touching her mind.  “Why… uhm, I mean… Can’t the Doctor show me?  No offense, but it does seem kinda… intimate.”  She watched Hal, hoping she hadn’t insulted her, but Hal only smiled understandingly.  The Doctor, on the other hand, appeared flustered.

“Weelll… that’s sort of the problem, isn’t it?” he said, rocking on his heels.  “I know you so well, Rose.  I’m not sure if I can control myself sufficiently for a ‘demo’ sort of experience.  It… it could easily become something much more… intense.”  The smouldering look in his eyes let Rose know exactly how _intense_ the experience might get.  Her breath caught in her throat, robbing her of a proper response while a thousand questions swirled through her.

“If you were to link with the Doctor, you’d probably need an intermediary, Rose,” interrupted Hal, observing how the two were at a loss of words.  “I can do that, if you like.  If you trust me enough, that is.  I promise I wouldn’t look at anything you don’t want me to see.”

Rose nodded.  “I think I’d like to try it.  There’s so much about the Doctor that I don’t know anythin’ about.  “M sorta realising’ that now.  ‘M kinda feelin’ left out, if ya know what I mean.  But I wanna take it nice an’ slow, yeah?”

She looked up into the Doctor’s eyes.  Fixing her with a frank stare out of hooded, meltingly chocolate brown irises, his voice dropped into a seductive lower register.

“Oh, I am absolutely, astoundingly, mind-blowingly _good_ at _nice and slow,_ Rose Tyler,” he drawled.  

The timbre of his voice combined with the intensity of his knowing gaze ignited a spark of heat and energy in her core.  It spread rapidly outward through her trunk and limbs until her fingertips and toes tingled with an excitement she could barely contain.  She felt her breath hitch again; could feel her face begin to blaze and tears prickle her eyes as she tried to break his bold stare.  There was something about the way he had formed the words with such intent; how he performed the gentle rolling of the ‘R’ in her name, almost with a Scottish burr that seemed to literally caress her very soul.

She knew, of course, how well versed the Doctor was in the subtle art of seduction.  She had seen him use flirtation often in affecting the outcome of many of their traveling adventures.  There were few who didn’t fall to his charms, even when they knew with certainty he would never deliver.  

And, naturally, it was not the first time he’d put the ‘whammy’ on Rose.  He’d frequently practiced his wiles on Rose in the privacy of the TARDIS, always watching her face to see how flustered she would become.  She was aware of how it stroked his huge ego to bring her repeatedly on the brink of complete submission, ready to fulfil any desire he might declare, only to dance out of reach as if he hadn’t meant any of it.

She’d learned to play by his rules; to be the timid mouse to his cagey, capricious cat.  But the rules seemed to be changing.  This new new new Doctor was so identical in many ways to her previous new new Doctor, and yet so different.  He had boldly declared his intentions, but she wasn’t sure if she truly believed him after years of training herself to believe otherwise.   And now that he had bonded to Hal, she was discovering that she didn’t know the Doctor nearly as well as she thought.  

It galled her, to be honest.  After years of being in the closest emotional relationship she’d ever had with a man, after years of risking her life to be at his side, another woman had stepped forward to reach a level of intimacy with the Doctor that she envied.  It was her own fault, she knew.  She could have claimed that right months ago as soon as their feet touched the sands of Dårlig Ulv Stranden.  That did nothing to douse the slow burn of jealousy in her breast.  She felt no enmity towards Hal, who obviously didn’t want the Doctor as a mate, but she deeply resented their psychic bond all the same.  She wanted it for herself, as much as it frightened her at the same time.

Taking a gulping breath, she broke the spell-binding gaze he held over her and turned to Hal.  

“Ok, what do I need t’ do,” she asked with a nervous smile.

Hal and the Doctor exchanged glances again, seemly coming to a consensus without words.  Rose felt another twinge of covetous, and tried to tamp it down.  At one time she had felt a similar connection to the Doctor, where they had barely needed to glance at one another to arrive at a decision.  Now, she was on the outside looking in.

“Probably not a good idea to do that here, with Jackie skulking about,” frowned the Doctor, hands thrust deeply into pockets.

“You’re probably right,” Hal agreed.  “Well, you have to take me home anyway.  Why don’t we go for lunch together and then over to my place for a little tea?” suggested Hal.  “What do you think, Rose?”

It was the Doctor’s turn to give Hal a raised eyebrow, knowing how protective she was of her privacy.

Rose gave her a reserved smile.  “Are ya sure?  I won’t be a fifth wheel to ya?”

“Wouldn’t ask if I felt that way,” Hal said bluntly.  “I’ll go pack my things.”

After Hal brought down her duffle, the three bid their farewells to Pete and Jackie, letting Jackie know that they wouldn’t be returning for lunch.  Enveloping Hal into a tight embrace, Jackie told Hal she was always welcomed to the Tyler home.

“I’m so sorry someone had to ruin your first visit, dearie,” Jackie told her.  “Join us for dinner again next weekend, ok?  You won’t be gettin’ a proper meal when you’re campin’ out for a coupl’a weeks, ya know.”

“Thanks, Jackie, I’d love that,” Hal said sincerely.  “Not too many fresh vegetables available at a camp site, so I’d better get my veg in now!”

“Blimey,” groused the Doctor.  “Now I’m in for it.  I suppose the menu will feature asparagus, sprouts and spinach next week.”

“An’ swedes!” chortled Jackie, causing the Doctor to shudder visibly.

Deciding on fish and chips, they climbed into the little blue hybrid with Rose riding up front with the Doctor.  Rose couldn’t keep the huge grin from spreading across her face.  The blue hybrid may not have resembled the TARDIS much, but it did feel strangely familiar, as if she and the Doctor were off on an adventure together.  Whenever she turned around to talk to Hal, she could sense the Doctor sneaking covert glances at her.

“Eyes front, soldier!” Hal sharply commanded.

“It’s a long walk to your flat from here, back seat driver,” the Doctor snapped churlishly.  The two women burst into peals of laughter at the Doctor’s pout, which Hal could see plainly in the rear-view mirror.

“Sorry,” choked Hal.  “Not used to riding in the back seat of a vehicle powered by underfed gerbils,” she teased him.  

Their lunch continued in a similar manner with the Doctor and Hal trading barbs as they initiated planning for the upcoming field trip.  The Doctor and Hal agreed to trade cars later in the week so that Hal could shop for miscellaneous gear and clothing.

“You’re really gonna let ‘im drive your Porsche?” Rose asked, eyes incredulously wide.

“ _Oi_ , I’m a good driver!” he protested.

“Have ya any idea how many times I ended up on me backside when he piloted the TARDIS?” Rose continued.  “’S easier to count the number of times I didn’t, actually.”

Hal’s eyes were narrowed as she glared at the Doctor.  Before she could recover her voice, he decided to make a pre-emptive strike.

“The TARDIS is designed to be piloted by six Time Lords, Hal.  It’s only because of my superior piloting skills that she ended up on her backside and not on the ceiling!”

“Did do, once or twice,” snorted Rose.

“One scratch… one scratch, Doctor…” Hal hissed.

“Not a scratch!  Not a single, solitary scratch, I promise!” he said quickly.  “She’ll be as pristine and unmarked as they day she rolled off the assembly line.  Scout’s honor!”

“Were you _ever_ a Boy Scout?” Hal snorted in derision.

“I’ve… I’ve scouted a few times,” he boldly prevaricated.

“Well, we shall see when we’re out in the middle of nowhere with no utilities, no built-in facilities, and no cheating with your sonic screwdriver.”

“Define ‘cheating’,” prodded the Doctor.

“Starting a fire with the sonic, for instance.”

“That’s cheating?!?” he squeaked in outrage.  “I suppose you’ll expect me to start a fire by rubbing two sticks together?!?”

“That’s what Boy Scouts do,” Hal insisted.

“Rubbish,” spat the Doctor.  “Haven’t they ever heard of _matches?_ ”

By now Rose was bent double with loud enough guffaws to cause a few chippie patrons to stare.  Tears and mascara were streaking down her cheeks.  The Doctor gazed lovingly at her, happy to see her laugh again after so many years of wistfully yearning to hear it.  He was also gratified that she appeared to be over her shock from learning he’d had a wife before her.

“Time to go?” asked Hal, anxious to get back home.  While not willing to admit it, she missed her sole companion for the last five years.  Sid had been her closest friend and confidant, and she seldom spent nights away from him unless on business travel.

Rose was characteristically quiet as they walked up the stairs to Hal’s flat, eyes flicking about as she took in her surroundings.  The Doctor watched her reaction, proud of how she remained astutely aware in unfamiliar territory.  It was one of the traits he valued the most in his companions; and Rose, a 19 year-old shop girl, had somehow arrived ready-made for the dangerous situations they would find themselves in. 

“Sid!  I’m home!” called out Hal as she opened the door.  Naturally, she didn’t need to do that, since Sid was tied into the security systems.  But she liked to treat Sid with respect and always greeted him.

“Good afternoon, Hal,” greeted Sid.  “Good afternoon, Doctor,” he said after the Doctor placed his palm on the panel below the security keypad and stepped inside.

“Sid, I have another guest.  You may call her Rose,” Hal introduced.  She indicated for Rose to place her palm on the flat panel.

“Rose Marion Tyler,” announced Sid as she stepped through.  “Handprint stored and identity confirmed with Torchwood employee records.  Good afternoon, Rose.”

“Hallo, Sid,” Rose muttered self-consciously, eyes roving about the room looking for a body to go with the voice.

“I’ll start the tea,” Hal said headed into the kitchen.  “Make yourselves at home.”

“Is tha’ a computer?” Rose asked Hal, pointing to the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Hal nodded as she and the Doctor grinned.  “And he’s actually downstairs and takes up most of the lower floor.”

“That’s brilliant!” said Rose, clearly impressed.  She and the Doctor eased themselves onto the sofa as Rose took note of Hal’s large video collection, squinting to read the titles.  “Wish my flat was as clean as hers,” whispered Rose.

The Doctor winked.  “Wish my car was as clean as hers,” he whispered.

“I wasn’t gonna mention the stench of old rancid chip wrappers in your car.  But since you are aware of them…”  Hal had returned holding a tea tray laden with a pot, mugs, an assortment of biscuits and a jar of Nutella.

“Oooh, Nutella!” cried the Doctor.  “You were holding out on me, Hal.  Why didn’t you bring out the Nutella before?”

Hal shrugged after setting down the tray on her coffee table.  “Sorry.  Must have been distracted by the grovelling and whinging about man-eating heiresses in six-inch stilettos.”

“That was long after tea, mind you,” he pouted.

Rose frowned at the word “heiress.”  “Man-eatin’ heiresses?” she asked, staring at the Doctor.

“Oh, yes… “ he said, choosing his words carefully.  “Jackie was threatening to fix me up with a bored heiress as a date for the Torchwood party, unless I found someone else to be my plus one.  So to avoid that untenable situation, I politely asked Hal…”

“Grovelled...”

“… _asked_ Hal to accompany me,” he said with a warning glare aimed at Hal.  “Hal, of course, couldn’t wait to slither around like some pole-dancing strumpet with an unknown loathsome lothario with two inches of pomade in his hair.”

“Oh, I forgot a knife for the Nutella,” said Hal in a mockingly cheerful voice.  “Let me go get one from the kitchen!”

“You two are completely barmy,” Rose said with a laugh after Hal disappeared around the corner.

“You have no idea,” he chuckled, tensing as Hal returned with a table knife in her hand.

“Relax!” she barked at him before placing the knife on the tray.  “I would never stab you with a table knife, you donut.  Too dull and terrible grip on the handle.”

The Doctor turned to Rose, grinning maniacally.  “Ready for her to go into your head now?”

Rose had just stuffed half a digestive biscuit smeared with Nutella into her mouth.  “Mmmfff!” she laughed, crumbs falling out of her mouth.  She took a sip of tea to wash the biscuit down.  “Wow, that’s lovely!  Never thought of puttin’ Nutella on a digestive before.  Brilliant!”

“Love Nutella,” sighed the Doctor.  “I’ll eat almost anything smeared with Nutella,” he added wistfully.

Hal rolled her eyes at him.  “Including asparagus?”

“I did say ‘almost,’ now didn’t I?  That’s an exclusionary adjective that implies asparagus.”

“Ooookay,” drawled Rose.  “Before this conversation goes too far, I’m ready.”

Hal smiled and sat on the sofa between the Doctor and Rose.  “Budge,” she told the Doctor, to give herself more room between them.  She positioned herself so that they were each approximately half an arm’s length from her.

“Now turn to face me a bit,” she instructed.  They shifted a quarter turn so that they were gazing at each other over Hal.  Tucking her legs under her, Hal wriggled a bit to get comfortable before turning slightly to Rose. 

“Rose, understand that what you will be seeing is not exactly real,” Hal said sombrely.  “Everything that you see will be generated by our minds.  What you see may in fact exist, but it will be an idealized image based on our own perceptions.  In other words, if I show you a picture from my mind, it will appear as I view it, regardless of what it may actually look like in reality.  Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Rose said.

“You may also experience emotion emanating from one of us.  Emotions are similar to imagery.  The emotion will be quite real and genuine, but the catalyst for that emotion may not be a fact at all.  Just because I may feel guilty about something doesn’t mean that I am, in fact, guilty.  I may feel intensely that something is my fault, when it’s clearly not.  I may think that something is a fact, when it is not.  Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Rose nodded.

“Please keep that in mind at all times,” intoned Hal.  “Finally, keep in mind that there are no lies in telepathic communication.  Misunderstanding may occur, but lying is almost impossible.  The emotions and words you hear will be quite real, but not necessarily true.  They are absolute for the person speaking them because they are their true thoughts and feelings.  But thought is not always reality.  I may think the world is flat and truly believe it, but it doesn’t make it true for anyone but myself.  So, are you ready?”

Rose nodded, a little pale but fiercely determined.  Hal looked to the Doctor, who was extremely pale but equally determined.  Bracing herself for the vortex of emotions she knew lay beneath the surface, Hal placed the fingertips of her right hand at Rose’s left temple.  She reached out with her left to touch the Doctor’s right temple.  She flinched slightly as she buffered the strong emotions of her two companions, closing her eyes to concentrate.

“Empty your thoughts and close your eyes,” she murmured.  “I will tell you when to open them again.  Just concentrate on your breathing.  Try to relax and slow it down.”

Rose tried to think of nothing, focusing on the rasp of her own breath.  It seemed unnaturally loud now that she was conscious of it.  Her brows furrowed slightly as something brushed across the front of her mind… like a gentle breeze.  She suddenly felt heat on her face and an enticing scent seemed to fill her nostrils; something that reminded her of Christmas.

All too soon, Hal’s voice drifted to her, but it didn’t seem to come to her ears.  It was like she heard her in her head.  

“You can open your eyes now.”

Rose opened her eyes and blinked against the bright light.  She was outside, and the biggest, widest, bluest sky she had ever seen was before her.  In front of her, and on the horizon, thousands of what looked like gigantic evergreen bushes dotted the scenery.  Each was about ten to fifteen feet in height, and they were spaced anywhere from twenty to a hundred feet apart.  Their branches were longest at the bottom, where they hugged tightly to the ground.  A spicy resinous smell emanated from the evergreens in the 30 degree Celsius temperature, heated by a blazing sun high in the West.  She could see gently rolling hills and distant mountain peaks all around her.

Looking down at her feet, Rose noticed she was standing in fine beige-coloured sand filled with small debris shed from the trees.  Course prairie grass grew sparsely between the bushes, almost as tall as her knees.  Standing in the small clearing on either side of her were Hal and the Doctor.  She was shocked momentarily to see the Doctor dressed in his brown-pinstripes and trainers, looking exactly as she’d last seen him in Prime.

“Where are we?” she asked Hal, who had a serene smile on her face.

“We’re not too terribly far from our future camping location, about 75 miles from here.  Well, it would be if we were in Prime, that is.   It’s part of my family’s estate in Arizona, a few miles from the New Mexico border.”

“’S beautiful,” Rose said in admiration.  She glanced over to the Doctor, who was standing quietly with his hands in his pockets.  He was looking out over the horizon, his hair blowing in the warm breeze, his face unreadable.  “Don’t _you_ think it’s beautiful, Doctor?” she asked him.

“Gorgeous,” he replied simply.  His expression didn’t change, didn’t seem to really register the natural beauty around him.  He seemed to have eyes only for Rose as he looked into her face.  He looked so vulnerable, so alone, so forlorn to her; as if the weight of centuries was crushing his spirit down.  She could see how much he wanted her, wanted to be near her; but something was holding him back.  She turned back to Hal, and looked into the deep blue depths of her eyes, like the inky indigo of a profound ocean.  She felt as if she could fall into them and sink fathoms below into the very heart of Hal’s soul and lose herself there.

_He is afraid of losing you if you discover the truth of him,_ she heard Hal’s voice in her head. _There is much that you each need to know about the other, and until then you must not form a permanent bond. Convince yourself first that he is who he says he is.  Form a strong link so that you may know with certainty that he speaks truly, but go no further.   I will keep you both safe so that you do not cross the Point of No Return.  If I tell you to stop, you must stop._

Rose nodded silently, and reached out for the Doctor’s hand.  Surprised, he searched deeply into her eyes.  He smiled when he saw the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as her eyes crinkled.

“Come on, Doctor!  Let’s go explore that hill over there to the North,” she grinned.  He linked his hand to hers and started walking northeast toward a rocky prominence a few hundred yards away.  It was difficult to get good traction in the sand, so they interlaced their fingers to give each other support.

They crossed a deep, dry arroyo at the base of the hill, the Doctor jumping across first.  Rose followed after a running start, almost bowling the Doctor over as he caught her on the far edge.  Grinning, they both raced up the steep side of the rocky mound, sliding on loose rounded multi-coloured stones and clumps of sand that cascaded down behind them.  Once at the top, some 500 feet higher, they stared in awe at the huge expanse of earth and sky all around them.  

Rose nestled into the Doctor’s side.  Unthinkingly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her tightly to him as he scanned two mountains to the west.  The sun seemed on a course to set between them.

“So, are we really in Hal’s mind?” Rose asked idly.

“Yup,” he answered.  “We really are.”

“So, if we were bonded, we could do so somethin’ like this?  Show each other things, like memories an’ stuff?”

“Could do, yeah.”

“Oh, an’ why are ya in pinstripes?  Is that how Hal sees ya?”

He looked down and frowned slightly.  “No, that would be me.  I must see myself like this.  Hmmm.”

“What about me?  What do I look like to you?”

He smiled as he gazed down at her.  “You look like Rose Tyler, the one and only,” he answered.  His eyes radiated love and admiration so frank that it took her breath away.

He lifted an eyebrow.  “Although, I’m pretty sure you’ve grown at least a cup size,” he chuckled with a boyish grin.

Rose looked down at her tightly clinging tee-shirt and laughed.  “Always did envy me Mum.  I dunno if I wanna leave here now!”

“You’re perfect the way you are, Rose.  Please don’t envy anyone.  I wouldn’t want you to be anything but yourself, exactly as you are.”

Smile fading, Rose stared at her feet.  “I’ve changed, you know.  A lot has happened since Canary Wharf.  I… I got scars all over my body now.  Nothin’ I can do about it.  Damaged goods, I am.”

Whirling around, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, his face suddenly furious.  “Don’t ever say that, Rose!  Please… don’t ever, _ever_ say that about yourself!”

“But it’s true,” she said in a small voice, tears welling.  “I ain’t the little shop girl ya use’ta know.  You never saw my entire body before, so ya don’t know.  But you’d be horrified if ya saw it now.”

He crushed her to his body in a tight embrace and cradled the back of her head with one hand.  “Stop it,” he whispered in a cracked voice.  “Please, Rose.  I would never… I can’t… Never, ever would I think such a thing.  I don’t care what your body looks like!  It’s you that I love, in whatever form you are in.  You can’t do this to yourself.  You’re breaking my heart.”

Rose knew that it was true, because his feelings suddenly broke through Hal’s barrier and flooded the link, battering her like a gigantic tsunami.  She felt as if she were drowning in waves of intense love, undying devotion, excruciating heartache, intractable fear, and a fierce need to protect her from all comers; to protect her even from herself.  Her eyes flooded with tears at the force of his emotions for her.  Unable to pull him any closer than she already was, crushed against his chest as she was, she reached out in the only way she could.  

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, gasping with rounded eyes as the atrophied link he shared with Rose flared to life.  He felt her reaching for him, flailing within the link to connect with him.  Like a drowning person who had never had swimming lessons, she couldn’t quite orient herself within his mind.  His Time Lord consciousness was too much for her, he knew, but he dove after her consciousness like a lifeguard.  

Their minds touched, burning like a supernova ignited.  All that he had ever wanted, all that he had ever striven to achieve in his long life, was suddenly within his reach.  The urge to merge his consciousness with Rose Tyler’s was irresistible, primal and overwhelming. He slid into her mind and felt the recognition, welcome, love and intense joy that shot through them both.  It was nothing like he had ever experienced, nothing he could ever have imagined.

He could sense Hal dampening the link, desperate to get his attention.  He swatted at her consciousness in indignation.  How dare she interfere?!?

_You’re hurting her!  Stop now, Doctor!  You have to stop!  Your Time Lord consciousness is too much!_

Somewhere within his mind, he heard Rose whimper.  A bolt of fear ran through him at the realisation that he had lost control.  He had overwhelmed Rose and would inadvertently kill her if he didn’t withdraw.  He knew he could never let her go… not totally… but he could stop his advance and dampen their link to a tolerable level.  Quickly, he pulled back slightly and built an impromptu barrier around Rose’s mind to shield her from the bulk of his hefty Time Lord brain.  Reinforcing the link between them, he slowly withdrew his mind from hers, giving her a reassuring and loving mental caress along the way.

Almost immediately, he was bereft.  He felt Rose’s groan of pain at the separation, and he sent her reassurance that he would return in full.  They would be one someday, forever, of that he solemnly promised her with all that he was.

Opening his eyes as they dropped to their knees on the knobby hill, panting with exhaustion, the Doctor gazed down into Rose’s liquid brown eyes.  They were filled with love and a promise.  

“My Doctor,” she whispered.

Dipping his head down, he sealed their lips in a passionate kiss mixed with their intermingled tears.  Deepening the kiss, he swept his tongue between her lips to circle around her tongue in that most primal and ancient battle; tasting her and claiming her as his for the rest of their lives.  When neither of them could go another second longer without a breath, he slowly drew back, sucking at her bottom lip as he reluctantly released her.

“My Rose Tyler,” he crooned as he dropped his forehead to press against hers.  “My beloved.”

“Forever,” Rose whispered.

“Forever,” he swore.


	22. Preamble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose try to adjust in the early minutes of their new bond.

 

A sharp niggling pain in the kneecaps tried to assert itself, but Rose Tyler would have none of it.  Her only reality at this moment were warm, kiss-swollen lips pressed lightly against her own; a warm tongue gliding against her palate, tongue and cheeks; and thin, wiry, but strong arms holding her in a tight embrace.  Time stood still as she focused on the fuzzy warmth that caressed her mind and seemed to reach into her heart.  Silent but fervent feelings passed through her in waves, emanating from the man in her arms.  Her response slipped back along the same pathway to touch him in a continuous feedback loop of blissful joy.  The only sounds were contented sighs and the occasional soft thrum of a soulful hum transmitted through arms and lips.

A muffled polite cough next to them alerted the Doctor and Rose that they were no longer alone on the knob hill.  They broke apart to glance up at Hal, who was standing with arms crossed and a smirk on her face.  She was now dressed in a tank top and khaki shorts.

The Doctor grinned at her well-tanned and toned legs, surprised that they appeared much more feminine than he might have guessed from her boyishly slim figure in denim, usually cloaked in an oversized lab coat.

“Legs!  You have legs!” he teased her.  “Who would ever have thought?”

Hal gave him a death-glare, her wispy fine hair blowing up in the slight breeze and standing on end.  Rose chuckled, thinking of how her hair now resembled the Doctor’s in a sticky-uppy mess that made her entirely believable as his sister, genetic or not.

“Well, I hate to break up your romantic moment in the beautiful Great Outdoors, but it seems you may have forgotten quite where you were,” Hal reminded him, tapping her finger to her temple.

“Ah, yes,” muttered the Doctor, leaping to his feet and brushing off his trousers.  “Might have forgotten a bit… in the, uh, heat of the moment.”

Rolling her eyes, Hal reached down to help Rose stand.  “There are some images I simply don’t need running about in my head, and there are several there right this instant that make me want to poke my eyes out from the inside.  Cease and desist until you get out of my mind, thank you!”

Rose flushed a bright red as she staggered up holding Hal’s hand for support.  “Owww!” she moaned, rubbing her bruised knees.  “My knees were killin’ me anyway,” she groaned.  “Sorry ‘bout the… uh… well… uncontrolled thoughts.  Wasn’t expectin’ what happened to happen, if ya know what I mean.”

“Oh, Hal’s not quite that much of a prude.  Now are you, Hal?” the Doctor asked.

“Oh, no…” Hal sighed in a slightly sarcastic tone.  “I’ve just been trapped on this godforsaken rock for five years without suitable companionship.  Taught myself to forget all about… stuff like that.”

“Good,” grinned the Doctor impishly, giving her shoulders a tight squeeze, “’cause you’ve got another five years to go!”

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, Hal glared down her nose.  “We’ll see about that,” she hissed.

_“Oi, rude!”_ laughed Rose, playfully bumping the Doctor’s shoulder before another verbal sibling war broke out.  He looked down at her with a besotted smile before pulling her into a tight hug, Hal all but forgotten.

“Oookaay,” drawled Hal, suspecting the pair were about to resume their courtship any second.  “Time to go back, I think.  You can continue with the pair-bonding rituals later.”

Rose’s grip on the Doctor tightened as she whipped her head around in alarm to look at Hal, clearly panicking at the idea of parting from him.

Hal shook her head.  “Oh, don’t worry,” she reassured her.  “You have an established betrothal bond now.  You’ll be able to touch each other’s minds and communicate on your own.  No need for an intermediary… except, perhaps, as a chaperone,” Hal added with a twinkle in her eye.

Hopeful, Rose glanced up into the Doctor’s face looking for confirmation.  Crinkles at the corners of his soulful brown eyes and a warm smile greeted her.  She felt herself getting lost in the promises she saw shining from his dark orbs, flecks of scattered gold sparkling in them illuminated by the bright sun.  It was impossible for her to stop the radiant grin that slowly crept across her face as the Doctor pulled her closer, placing his chin on her shoulder.

“Oh, there is no force in this universe that will hold me back now, Rose Tyler,” he whispered into her ear in a low pitched tone as smooth as melted butter.  A shiver passed through her at the realisation that her life, so filled with sadness, pain and loss these past few years, could potentially change forever.  No longer would her Doctor run from her, keep her at arm’s length… or a universe away; from this day forward they would run headlong into the future, hand in hand.  Her secret fantasy of being at the Doctor’s side as his companion, as a true life partner, was finally within her grasp.

Rose leaned back to lock eyes with him as a serious expression overcome her.  “You won’t run away anymore?  You won’t leave me behind and go swannin’ off into the unknown when ya get tired of me, like ya used t’do?  You’ll talk t’me, rather than clam up when I ask ya a question ya don’t wanna answer?”

“No, no, and yes,” he said with a pained little smile.  “I promise you, Rose.  I won’t run from you, ever again.  I won’t wander off without you holding my hand.  And I will talk to you, no matter how painful it is.”  He took both her hands in his.  “But understand, please… what I have to tell you, the things that I mean to show you… You may not want me as much once you’ve heard them, or seen them.”

Rose shook her head in bewilderment, her brows knitting in concern.  “You keep sayin’ that.  What could you have possibly done that’s so devastatin’ that ya think I would toss ya aside if I knew?  You must have had a good reason to do whatever it was,” she said solemnly.  “Tell me.  Just explain why, and I promise I’ll listen.”

He swallowed hard and nodded his head.  “I promise, I will.  But let’s do this carefully.  If I get only one thing _right_ in this life, I want it to be _this_ … us.  I’ve cocked up enough between us over the years, and I’m so sorry.  If you give me the chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“I gotta lot to make up for, too, ya know,” Rose said, casting her eyes to the ground.

“No, you don’t,” he said sincerely, shaking his head.  “I understand now, and I forgave you a long time ago.”

“But… but you don’t know it all.  I’m not the same person you used to know.  I don’t even know if…”

The Doctor gently placed two fingers against her full lips to stop her.  “You’re still Rose Tyler, the woman I loved from the moment I first held her hand and ran. That much I know.  I don’t care if you’ve blown up an entire universe, or half your organs have been replaced with artificial bits and bobs, or if you have scars that look like roadmaps.  I promise you, Rose… none of that matters.”

Eyes misty with gratitude, Rose suddenly erupted into watery giggles.  “Oh, seriously?  You mean that if I’ve obliterated an entire universe, the very thing you warned me _not_ t’do, you’d still love me?!?”

“Oh, yes!” grinned the Doctor.  “I’d just have to make sure that, in future, I’m always by your side to convince you it’s not nice to blow up universes.”

“Oh?  And jus’ how’re ya gonna _convince_ me?  Ya know how stubborn I can be,” teased Rose coquettishly, the tip of her tongue suddenly peeping out between her teeth.

The child-like mirth in the Doctor’s chocolaty brown eyes melted away to become a heated, hungry look, almost predatory in its intensity, that made Rose’s skin flush and tingle as if it would combust.  

“Weelll,” he thrummed in a low throaty growl, “I’ll simply have to find ways to… distract you.”

_“Ahem!”_ Hal uttered pointedly as the Doctor’s head swooped in to connect with Rose’s trembling lips.  He halted a mere inch from his target at Hal’s interruption, grimacing in irritation.

“You know,” he whispered, “I’m beginning to understand what it’s like to have a bratty little sister around.”

“I heard that!” snapped Hal.  “Whispering doesn’t work when you’re in my head.”

Reluctantly, the couple stepped apart to put some space between each other, but their eyes remained firmly locked.

“Oh good grief,” stomped Hal.  “Would you two stop mooning at each other like a pair of courting Emperor penguins?  You can do this later when you get home?!?  Come to think of it, I’m not sure either of you is fit to drive, considering.”  

Rose seemed to break free of the trance, blinking as she glanced around the hill.  “Oh, that reminds me… Those mountains on the horizon… they’re white on the top, like there’s snow up there.”

“It is snow,” nodded Hal.  “Those are the White Mountains near Springerville and Show Low.”

“What’s that big mountain over there?” asked Rose, pointing to a large bluish-grey trapezoidal mountain on the horizon to the southwest.  “It seems to have quite a bit of snow, but it’s so warm here.”

“That’s Mount Escudilla,” answered Hal.  We’re almost 6000 feet in elevation where we stand.  Escudilla is the third highest peak in Arizona at about 10,900 feet.  The temperature drops rapidly the higher in elevation you climb.”

“Eskulldeeya?” Rose sounded out tentatively.

“Close enough,” laughed Hal.  

“How close is it?”

“Oh, about 60 or 70 miles from here, or about an hour and a half drive time,” said Hal.

“Can we go there?  When we’re on our campin’ trip, I mean?  Are we allowed to climb it?” Rose asked excitedly.

The Doctor smiled fondly down on his newly-intended.  “My Rose, ready for an adventure already.”

“Well, I suppose we could,” sighed Hal.  “Depends on whether the topology is the same here as back home.  And on whether you two can keep your hands off each other long enough for us to get some real work done,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at them.  “Climbing might be a bit treacherous, but there used to be a road that led up to the top.  We can at least drive up to the level of the snow pack.”

Rose squealed and bounced up and down on her heels in delight.  “Oh, that would be fabulous!” she chortled.

“We’ll have to scan it for artefacts, of course,” Hal said knowingly.  

“Oh, of course,” agreed the Doctor with a smirk.  “Sonic is already calibrated and ready.”

“Alright, time to end this,” Hal said wearily.  The Doctor took a long look at Hal, noting that she appeared a bit pale now beneath her virtual tan.

“Oh, I don’t wanna really go,” whined Rose, pouting.  She grasped the Doctor’s hand as if she was afraid he’d disappear any second.

Taking both her hands into his, the Doctor gently lifted them to his lips and kissed them.  “Don’t worry, Rose.  We’ll have more moments like this, I promise you.  We’re bonded now!  By my people’s most ancient tradition, we’re engaged to be married.”

Rose’s eyes widened as a huge grin broke across her features.  “Oh, that’s right!  Oh, my goodness… Wait ‘til I tell me Mum!!”

“Uhm… Doctor?” Hal prodded gently, pulling the gold chain about her neck out of her tank top.  She dangled the blue diamond engagement ring in the air, the precious gemstone casting sparkles about her in the sun.

“Ahhhh, yes,” said the Doctor hastily, getting her point.  “Rose, perhaps we should wait just a tiny bit before we tell Jackie, eh?”

“Why?”

He nodded toward Hal, who was still holding up the ring.  “Just a few days, so I can do this in the proper _Earth_ tradition…”

“I don’t need a bauble like that, Doctor!” Rose snorted.

“No, but I want to give you one,” he said, smiling.  “And Jackie would be expecting one.  She’ll slap me into a new time zone for not following tradition.”

“Oh, ok,” Rose acquiesced, finally.  “She might do, you’re right.  Funny, how you know my Mum so well now.”

The sky brightened and the horizon shimmered as images began to break up around them, slurring together like paint running down a wall.  They heard Hal take a deep breath, and then the images snapped back into place just as suddenly.

“Hal!” shouted the Doctor in distress, reaching her as she slowly slipped down to the rocky ground, ending in a thump as she sat hard.

“Ow,” she complained, leaning to rub her backside.  “Did I have to make the damn rocks so hard?”

“It’s ok,” he said, holding her by the arms to prevent her from falling over.  “Let go now, please.  You’ve done more than enough.”

Hal nodded jerkily as the scenery faded away into darkness.  Once again back in her flat on her sofa, Hal dropped her aching arms to disconnect from the Doctor and Rose.  All three opened their eyes and blinked, trying to orient themselves to their seated positions in a place so unlike the open spaces of Arizona projected from Hal’s mind.  The flat seemed drab and surreal next to the vivid imagery they’d experienced for the past hour or so.

Drawn and haggard, Hal was paler than the Doctor had ever seen her.  He reached out to grab her by the shoulders as she keeled forward toward the coffee table, pulling her back until she rested against him.  He could feel her trembling from sheer exhaustion as she panted in shallow breaths.

“Oh, Hal… are you alright?” he asked, deeply concerned.  “We shouldn’t have gone on for so long.”

Hal waved lazily in dismissal.  “’S ok,” she slurred.  “Jus’ haven’t done this in a long… time.”  Frowning, she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“Headache?” the Doctor asked.

“Yeah,” she grimaced in pain.  

The Doctor gave Rose a quick look, and without saying a word, Rose leapt to her feet and ran to the kitchen.  Searching through the drawers and cabinets, she located Hal’s linen drawer with tea towels.  She snatched one from the top and opened the refrigerator freezer, which had very little in it other than a block of frozen vegetables or two.  Retrieving ice from the automatic ice machine, she chuckled, noting that the crescents of ice were shrivelled from evaporation and stuck together.  Obviously, Hal didn’t entertain enough to use ice before it dehydrated.  Wrapping a handful of cubes in the towel, she returned quickly to the living room and handed the bundle over to the Doctor.

Tenderly, he placed the bundle of ice against Hal’s forehead, lifting it slightly when she hissed.

“Cold!” Hal whinged, batting at his hand.

“Yup, ice is generally cold,” the Doctor grinned sardonically.  “I see your intellect hasn’t been damaged much.”  He slipped from behind Hal to allow her to stretch out on the sofa, placing one of the throw pillows behind her head before replacing the ice.

In spite of his jocular tone, Rose could detect waves of anxiety radiating from the Doctor as he tended Hal.  Standing several feet away from him, his emotions were as crystal clear to her as if he had told her how he felt.  More so, really.  With a hitch in her breath, she took several steps closer and placed her hand gently on his neck and shoulder.

She felt a tingle in her hand and in the back of her mind; an electric energy that seemed to travel instantaneously between them.  Feeling him take a sharp breath at her touch, she knew that he felt it too, although he never took his eyes off of Hal.  Closing her eyes, Rose focused on that tingling sensation, following it along what felt like a thick chord connecting her to the Doctor.   Not knowing exactly what to do, she pushed a thought directly to him, forming the words in her mind as well as the meaning.

_Is she gonna be alright?_

An instant response caught her off guard as her eyes flew open in shock; an electric blue spark pulsing through the chord like the end of a sonic screwdriver winging its way into her head.  A kaleidoscopic, dizzying collage of thought and feelings erupted into her mind, almost overwhelming her in their depth and number.  Elation, pride, concern, guilt and impatience were all jumbled together in a bolus of feelings she couldn’t quite interpret, although she could guess at the context as they flooded through her.  She looked down to see the Doctor’s eyes fixed on her, an affectionate smile plastered on his face.

_Oh, my clever, clever Rose!  How did you learn so quickly?  We’re going to be so brilliant together!_ He glanced down at Hal.  _And she should be alright in a bit.  I’m afraid we overtaxed her._

_I’m fine,_ Hal shot them silently.  Rose started, not expecting to hear Hal’s voice in her mind.

_Stop eavesdropping,_ admonished the Doctor, giving Hal a warning tap atop the bundle of ice.

“Learn to filter, Time Lord,” Hal grumbled aloud.

“I don’t think we should leave her alone,” observed Rose, worried by Hal’s ashen features.

“Agreed,” the Doctor said.

Hal removed the ice pack and glared at them both.  “Hey!  I’m right here, you know.  And if there’s anyone who shouldn’t be alone, it’s _you_ two!”  She winced as another bolt of pain shot through her temples.  Placing the ice pack back in place, she fixed the Doctor with a fierce stare.

“What?” asked the Doctor in mock innocence.  

“You know what,” sneered Hal.  “You’re newly bonded.  If I weren’t lying here right now, you two would be going at it like bunnies.”

“So, you’re our self-appointed chaperone?” snorted the Doctor.

“Damn skippy,” huffed Hal.  They stared at each other for a couple of beats before breaking into sniggers.  

“Ow,” chuckled Hal, holding her forehead as she snorted.  

“Wherever did you pick up that phrase?!?” guffawed the Doctor, holding his side.

“No!  What’s this about _bunnies?”_ demanded Rose, shifting her gaze from one to the other.

Hal sat up, wiping tears from her eyes as she composed herself.  “The first twenty-four hours or so of a betrothal bond are very intense,” Hal told her.  “As I've said before, if you’re not very careful, the two of you could very well progress quickly to a full bond before you’re ready.  I think you have a lot of things to talk about before that should happen.”

“A full bond?” echoed Rose.

“A _marriage_ bond, Rose,” the Doctor said gravely.  “At least, it would be the equivalent of a marriage for me.  You’re fully human, so I’m not so sure if it would mean the same for you.  For me, there would be no potential for divorce.  It would be… permanent… for life.  If you were to leave me after that… I couldn’t… I could never again…”  He choked on the words.  

“Oh,” Rose said, expelling a long breath.  “Sooo… if we were like… intimate, or somethin’, that would do it?  We would be married?  Married accordin’ to Time Lord tradition?”

“I don’t think I could prevent it from happening, Rose.  The way that I feel about you…  I mean, I am fairly positive…”  He ground to a halt, suddenly very embarrassed by his admission of lack of control where she was concerned.

Rose burst into laughter at the irony.  “So, what you’re sayin’, Doctor, is that I gotta wait until my weddin’ night?”

The Doctor flushed a deep red, his ears turning a deep crimson, as Rose and Hal giggled hysterically.

“Yup, you’ve got yourself an old-fashioned boy, Rose,” chortled Hal.  “Take a 900 year-old guy, a billion years of Time Lord tradition, and see what you get?”

“ _Oi_ ,” snapped the Doctor.  “At least I don’t have to stop at the petrol station for an oil change, like _your_ fiancé!”

“Oh, do shut up.”


	23. How My Soul Cries Out for You

 

In the darkness, a pair of hazel brown eyes twinkled calmly, illuminated by the faint glow of distant streetlamps streaming through a nearby window.  A hint of an inner laugh tugged at the corners, but all was quiet in the stillness, except for the occasional soft purr of an appliance motor.  Across the vast expanse of the bed, dark brown eyes gazed back, almost black from dilation in the peaceful dimness of the room.

Between them, a corona of light-coloured hairs floated lazily, drifting in a whispery breeze stirring them gently one way, then the other, by their breaths.  Brown eyes shifted downwards to search the serene, relaxed countenance beside them.  He sensed the ever-vigilant Hal wasn’t deeply in sleep, although anyone else might think so from her smooth features and slow, steady breathing.  His dark eyes languorously slid back up to meet Rose’s as a slow quirky smile crept over his face.

Ever so gently, he lifted a hand and slowly reached across the slumbering body, taking great care not to disturb the wispy strands of hair floating above Hal’s head, reaching with long thin fingers toward temples so temptingly close.  An even more tempting pink bit of tongue appeared between teeth at their approach.

Without warning, a hand shot up to intercept his wrist and swiftly bring it back down to his pillow.  Glancing down and expecting to meet a steely glare, he was surprised to see Hal’s eyes still closed and not a trace of emotion on her features.

“Nice try, Doctor.  Go to sleep, please,” Hal muttered sleepily.  Rose tittered very quietly behind her.  She smiled back at the Doctor, who had a boyish grin on his face at being caught “red-handed.”  

Naturally, they had protested when Hal declared them both unfit to drive back to the mansion; ditto for their trustworthiness in being alone the first night after bonding.  Their whinging fell on deaf ears as Hal marched them five blocks from her flat to the nearest Tesco to purchase the growing list of reasons why they couldn’t stay.  Two pairs of pyjamas, underwear, a make-up compact, a tube of mascara, toiletries, and supplies for dinner later, they trekked back to the flat loaded down with four canvas bags.  Stomping most of the way like a two year-old, the Doctor pouted petulantly about taking the next day off from work.

“I really need to check the baby TARDIS, you know,” he whined.  “She’s only starting to grow, and she misses me.”

Hal shrugged.  “You’ll be gone for two whole weeks soon.  She might as well get used to it.”

“But what about a bed?  How many bedrooms and beds do you have?”

“I have two bedrooms, Doctor.  One of them is an office.  The master bedroom has a queen bed in it,” she replied evenly.

“Well, there you go,” he huffed.  “How are three of us going to fit into one bed?”

Hal cocked an eyebrow at him.  “It’s not as if any of us are heavyweights, you know.  And if a queen is too little for us, there’s always the sofa.  For you, that is.”

Obviously not like the idea of sleeping on the sofa, the Doctor conceded the point.  “I suppose you’re going to sleep between us?  Like some kind of living _bundling board?”_

“Fine Amish tradition, that,” grinned Hal.  

“Weelll,” he smiled slyly, “the bundling board has to go to sleep sometime, eh?”

“Oh yes,” snickered Hal.  “And Sid will notify me if there’s any covert barn raising activities going on.” 

Rose giggled at the crestfallen look on the Doctor’s face.  “Oh, it’s jus’ one night, Doctor.  It’ll be fun, really.  Sort’a like a bunkin’ party, yeah?  An’ Hal even bought some lamb chops for ya.  Don’t wanna miss out on that, do ya?”

He mulled over the choice between succulent lamb chops or an equally succulent naked Rose, a thought that gave him pause for a good two or three minutes.  The truth be told, he really didn’t want to make a choice.  The stubborn Time Lord within him suggested he shouldn’t have to make a choice.  Not that a naked Rose was on the menu, of course.  Fervently wishing she was on the menu was another story.

It irked him that Hal was right, but the tempting offer of one of his favourite dishes assuaged him somewhat.  What little portion left of his rational mind admitted it was for the better that he not be left alone with Rose, but the remainder of his huge Time Lord brain was strangely preoccupied with obsessive and circuitous thoughts that all led to one pink and yellow girl.  Never before, in all of his long lives, had he experienced such a fixation, such a constant state of arousal.  The primitive urge to _mate_ , to mark her as his, to prove his worth in every way so that she’d would never, ever look at another man as a potential mate, burned through his veins like liquid fire.  

He had erroneously thought his people had grown beyond such base emotions; but the physiological reactions he was experiencing, triggered by the telepathic bond with Rose, belied that.  Although he’d never experienced a betrothal bond before as a Time Lord, he failed to see how a part-human physiology attributed to his reaction. Humans were not, as a race, telepathic, and therefore didn’t form telepathic bonds.  But Hal’s people did and, as a telepath of considerable power, she had recognized the first blush of a pair-bonding between the two.  Obviously, telepathic races, Time Lord or not, had similar instinctive mating drives.

Regardless of what evolutionary force was spurring him on at the moment, he knew that he was far from being a rational creature; more like a pubescent primate.  He longed to be in physical contact with Rose Tyler every second.  Thwarted by holding three canvas bags full of goods, he twitched every few steps as the urge to reach out and grab her hand washed through him.  He could not overcome desire, the thought of the feel of her skin against his.  A desperate wanting log jammed his thought processes; the constant thought of propelling himself across the short distance, to pull her body against his, occupied a good portion of his brain.  He feverishly longed to plunge mind, body and soul into hers; to merge every bit of his essence with _his_ Rose Tyler.  The desire he felt for oneness extended far beyond the physical; it extended into that esoteric realm of the mental and metaphysical.  The latter shocked him to his erudite Time Lord core.

And so it came to be that he found himself in the enviable position, some might say, of lying in bed with two very beautiful females by evening’s end.  Unfortunately for him, one was his formidable sister; the other was under her protection and on the far side of the bed.  To add insult to injury, he was dressed in rather unappealing _old man_ cotton plaid pyjamas.  The stiff sizing in the collar continually chafed his neck, his right arm was now pinned down at the wrist by his overzealous sibling, and his other arm was stuck under his raised pillow in an attempt to view at least a portion of Rose’s face.

Wizard.  Just wizard.

He held perfectly still, letting his breathing deepen and hoping Hal would finally enter into a deep sleep.  After what seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of his life, he felt the death grip on his wrist loosen a bit.  Keeping his eyes fixed on her face, he extricated his arm in an excruciatingly slow manoeuvre worthy of a master bomb technician.  Holding his breath until he thought his respiratory by-pass would kick in, he watched carefully for signs of awakening, but Hal seemed completely undisturbed.

Rose observed the Doctor’s movements with fascination, trying very hard not to giggle at the seriousness of his expression.  Shifting his eyes back to Rose’s, the Doctor flashed a bright Cheshire cat grin just as she caught movement in the corner of her eye.

Slowly and lazily, like a harvest moon on the horizon, the Doctor’s open hand was rising up above the sleeping Hal’s waist.  When it reached its apex, long, thin fingers wiggled invitingly at Rose in an extremely familiar gesture.

She grinned, and mimicking his movements she gently lifted her hand to meet his, being careful not to shift her body on the mattress.  Thankfully, Hal’s mattress was a high-end viscous foam type that transmitted little movement, but Rose took no chances.  Like two docking spaceships, their hands floated in the air on a rendezvous of fingertips.  Splaying their fingers apart, they interlinked their hands at last.

A warm, bright presence blossomed into Rose’s mind; a bright blue flash of colour seemed to accompany it.  Her breath quickened at the touch.  Instinctively, she relaxed the inner tension to allow the presence to sink deeper into her mind.

_Hello!_

_Hello, Doctor,_ she replied, trying to narrow the thought to only him.  She wasn’t quite sure how this telepathy thing worked, but she hoped she was transmitting privately to the Doctor.  Her eyes danced with delight at this new mode of communication.

_You’re kind’a…blue.  An electric blue… in my mind’s eye, that is,_ she said.  _Will you always be that colour?_

  _Yeah, mostly._ _It will probably change with my moods, though._ From the look of adoration he was giving her, she could tell he was happy even without sensing his feelings.

_How do I look?  What colour?_

_You’re sort of… pink,_ he told her, a shy smile spreading over his face.

_My favourite colour!_

_It’s probably your favourite colour because you subconsciously associate it with your mind’s psychic colour,_ he mused.

_Wow, an’ I always thought it was because I looked good in pink,_ Rose grinned.  

A bit of pink tongue poked out from the side of her mouth, catching the Doctor’s eye.  He stared agape at her luscious mouth, suppressing the urge to launch himself over Hal’s body to kiss her.  He swallowed thickly, unaware that he’d projected a clear picture of his desires.  He dragged his eyes away from her lips and settled them back onto her hazel brown irises, dark in the unlighted room.

_I felt that.  You wanted to kiss me,_ she said.

_Don’t need telepathy for that,_ he laughed silently.  _But really, you are magnificent, Rose.  I would never have thought you had any telepathic ability, and here you are holding a conversation with me.  Brilliant!_

_So, the stupid little ape surprised you, yeah?_

He flashed an embarrassed purple in her mind, along with a wave of regret.  _Oh, Rose… please forget I ever said such a stupid phrase.  And please, please forgive me for ever calling you that.  I was a broken man… a bitter and angry git who had lost the will to live.  You made me so much better!  It was wrong of me to say that to you or anyone._

_Was it the War?  The Time War? What was so horrible about it that you can never talk about it?_ The smile fell from her lips, wondering what horrible circumstance could have robbed the Doctor of all joy in life.  What could have broken such a wise and powerful being?  She felt his fingers tighten involuntarily at mention of the War.

 

A pained, haunted look came into his eyes, and she felt him momentarily withdraw slightly.  Before she could react, he surged back on an undercurrent of anxiety.

_Rose, I promise, I will tell you everything.  Everything that happened to me.  Everything I did.  Everything I didn’t do, but should have.  I will show you and let you judge what kind of man I truly am.  But, please… not tonight?  Tonight is special.  I’ve never been happier than I am right now; never had as much hope as you’ve given me today.  Please, let’s enjoy this for a short time…_

The heartfelt plea brought a mist to her eyes.  Not for the first time, she felt the jagged heartbreak and misery directly below the surface of the Time Lord’s psyche.  But this time it was more immediate, more real than she’d ever felt it before.  It was readily accessible, within her reach if only she were to demand it.  With sudden clarity she recognised her power to break this ancient and mighty mind with nothing but words and a look.  

A groundswell of fierce protectiveness sprang up within her breast. It reached out to envelop the lonely, sad man whose hand she held.  With deep regret she realised she had added to his sorrows; had vehemently denied who he was.  He may well be in his third body since she’d met him, but underneath he was still the same mind and soul of _her Doctor_.  For all his bluster, swagger and feigned indifference, this ancient being was putty in her hands.  He would fall on his sword at her bidding; at the command of a simple shop girl from urban London.  Why he loved her and gave her such power over him was beyond her ken.

Gently, she tugged his hand up and over Hal’s sleeping body and up to her lips.  Ghosting a soft kiss to his fingers, she closed her eyes and poured all of her feelings through their shared bond.  

_I love you,_ she whispered through the living chord of light between them, silently mouthing the words on his palm.  _I love you, my Doctor._

She opened her eyes to his tear-streaked face, the tracks glistening across his freckled cheeks and nose in the dim light.  A mixed expression of joy, wonder, and profound love suffused his features.  She could feel his emotions roiling below the surface, held back with his bated breath; as if he was afraid what he had heard wasn’t real.  

_Oh Rose… Rose… Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear those words?_

_Since the first time in Dårlig Ulv Stranden?_ _The first and the last time I said them?_

_Yes…  So very long ago._

_But you can actually feel it now,_ she said.  _Are words so important when you have a bond?_

_I was wrong.  I was so, so wrong, Rose.  It still needs to be said.  I love you, Rose, and I will tell you every single day for the rest of my life._

_I think I can handle that,_ she smiled.

_You won’t think I’m a daft old sop if I do it several times a day?_

_Might… but you can do it anyway,_ she said teasingly.

His eyes darkened somewhat, taking on a lean hungry look as he opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to his upper teeth.  _What about… other things?_

_Several times a day?!?_ She feigned an owlish look of girlish innocence at his suggestive thought.

_At least…_ he said with appropriately hooded bedroom eyes.  Rose felt a rush of heat through her body as the Doctor’s mind suddenly became streaked with bands of crimson and violet.  She didn’t resist as he carefully pulled her arm up and over the divide, barely missing the halo of hair sticking up from Hal’s burrowed head.

With a languid heated gaze down his nose, he pressed a series of tiny butterfly kisses to her wrist.  He worked his way slowly and incredibly silently out to her fingers, placing an infinitely gentle press of his full lips to the pad of each finger and thumb.  

Rose’s breath caught in her throat when, without warning, he opened his mouth to take in her index finger.  Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on hers, he flicked the end of her finger with his tongue in a rapid pattern that left her faint.  Swirling his talented tongue around the digit, he slowly suckled from knuckle to tip, changing the rhythm every few strokes in a heart-stopping tempo that made her toes curl up.

Rose struggled not to give out an audible whimper at the Doctor’s languorous ministrations.  Just as she was about to signal a telepathic time-out, the Doctor came to a stuttering halt.  Glancing down, he came face to face with a baleful deep-blue eye glaring back at him.

_Oops.  The basilisk has awakened,_ he warned Rose.  _Now we’re in trouble.  Weelll, more like **I’m** in trouble.  Unless she sleeps with her eyes open.  But the blast of displeasure she’s giving off right now suggests she’s awake and aware.  Or maybe she’s dreaming?  That could be it.  Maybe that’s why she hasn’t said anything yet?  Or maybe she’s going to clobber me first.  Hard to say._

So, the Doctor babbles even in telepathic speech, Rose noted wryly.  She retracted her hand very quickly, abashed and snickering over the Doctor’s predicament, wary of getting caught in the middle of the warring siblings.  She could sense that he wasn’t so much embarrassed about being caught as he was in abject terror of Hal’s retribution.  A fearsome being she must be to keep the Time Lord in check.  She thought only her Mum had that kind of influence over the Doctor.

Hal rolled over onto her back and sat up smoothly, never taking her eyes off the Doctor’s face.

“Oh… no... you… didn’t,” she hissed acidly.  “I _know_ you didn’t just do what I think you did.”

“Uhm… weelll…” he hummed, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Dammit, do you have any clue what it’s like to wake up to the sound of _sucking_ going on next to your ear?!?  You’re lucky I didn’t go all PTSD on you and _break something off!_ What the hell were you thinking??”

“Err… eh… I… I wasn’t?”

“Sofa!” Hal commanded, pointing imperiously to the bedroom door.

“Noooooo!” pleaded the Doctor, hands templed in supplication.  “Please, Hal, it was an accident!  It won’t happen again, I swear!”

“An accident?” Hal snorted.  “Oh, I get it.  Rose’s hand just accidentally lopped over here and you just happened to accidentally latch onto a finger like a newborn babe.  Got it.  SOFA!”

“No, no, no!  I’ll be good, I swear.  I’ll lie here with my hands down to my sides like a stick.  See?”  He threw himself down melodramatically onto the mattress, stiff as a board.  “Won’t move a muscle.  Won’t so much as breathe.  Respiratory by-pass and all, you know.  Besides, very sleepy now.  Going sleepy-bye now.  Goodnight!”

Hal glowered at the Doctor for several minutes while he made good on his promise not to move or breathe.

“One more attempt at hanky-panky and that’s it,” she warned him, rolling her eyes.  “Not only do you get the lumpy sofa, but I’ll kick your Time Lord butt all the way to the living room.”

Wisely, the Doctor remained silent and still, even as Hal demonstrably punched her pillow several times to fluff it before reclining.

Rose sent a chaste mental kiss to the Doctor along the lingering psychic connection before turning on her side away from Hal, pursing her lips tightly to keep her laughter in check.  

Tomorrow she would ask the Doctor about the fine old human tradition of dating.  There was a movie she wanted to see, and the thought of a romantic evening featuring the Doctor, a huge tub of popcorn and a shared drink left a vapid smile on her face as she started drifting off to sleep.

_Rooose_ _…I love you!_

_I love you, too, Doctor.  Now say goodnight, Doctor!_

_Goodnight, Doctor!_

Hal groaned.


	24. Stand Beside Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after their betrothal bonding, and still things to be said.

 

The alluring aroma of coffee and toast gently roused Rose from sleep.  She took a deep sniff before opening her eyes a tiny crack, wondering what time it was.  Blinking, she squinted at the featureless whiteness in front of her as disorientation took over.  The whiteness resolved into a blank flat-painted wall, and her breath caught in a quivery gasp.

_The stark whiteness of the Void room wall surged into her mind, the place where her world had shattered into tiny shards of misery and loss.  She remembered how cold the surface was against her cheek and hands, how she pounded at its stubborn solidity.  The sharp smell of it mocked her with a frank reality that tears could not melt._

She struggled to get up, pinned to the mattress surface as her heart surged and pounded in her chest.  She could feel her pulse in her throat as panic rose.  Looking down, she could see a plaid pyjama-clad arm encircling her waist, a pale slender hand emerging from the sleeve.  Long black hairs protruded from the wrist and were sprinkled over the back of the hand… a hand she knew almost as well as her own.

Rose went limp in relief, suddenly conscious of the fine perspiration covering her face and upper lip.  Sighing deeply, she leaned back to twist around slightly.   A stubbly neck and jawline greeted her, along with what seemed like an enormous Adam’s apple at eye-level.  She smiled as the naturally spicy scent of the Doctor wafted up into her nostrils, mixed with the faint chemical smell of new fleece fabric.  The serene hum in the back of her mind told her that he was fast asleep.

Wiggling slowly so as not to wake the somnolent Time Lord, she twisted herself onto her other side.  He had thrown his leg, surprisingly heavy, over hers, requiring a deft rotation of her hips to turn over.  The cotton pyjamas they both wore stuck to each other like Velcro, she noted with a pout.  Shifting up toward the head of the bed, she was finally able to get a good look at his face.  

Rarely was he seen so still and quiet.  She had only seen him like this one other time, right after he had regenerated.  Relaxed in sleep, his face seemed so smooth and youthful; the dusting of freckles across his cheeks and nose only made him seem more so.  His thick luscious lashes put hers to shame, she thought to herself.  She wondered idly how they’d look with a coating of mascara.  Unconsciously, her tongue poked out between her teeth in amusement.  Spikes of thick chestnut hair, mussed overnight by a pillow, pointed adorably in every direction.  She could definitely stand waking to such a vision every morning.

As she raised her hand to lightly brush the delicate shell of his ear, she suddenly became aware that she was being watched through barely slit, sleepy eyelids. 

“Hello,” Rose whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Hello,” he responded gravelly.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.  Why?  Do I look like a banshee?”  She reached up to finger-comb her tousled hair into place.

His arm tightened about her waist.  “You’re the loveliest sight I’ve ever awakened to,” he smiled gently.  “But I thought I felt you upset about something.  Was I dreaming that?”

“Oh.  It was the wall.  Kinda gave me a start when I first woke up.”

He pushed himself up a bit onto an elbow to view the wall behind her, blinking it into focus.  “Ah, yeah… can see why.  Should really help her to paint that a different colour.  Maybe a nice coral?”

Rose chuckled softly.  “Hmmm, the Doctor; Interior Design Extraordinaire.  Has a ring to it, yeah?”

“The ringing would probably be in my head after Hal gives me a whack for trying to redecorate the place.”

“She wouldn’t!  Would she?”

“She does that,” he smiled.  “I need someone to keep me in line, you know.”

“I can do that,” Rose said, casually noting the gold flecks in his irises as she stared deep into his eyes.  She paused for a second.  “Are you ok now?”

“A little less… randy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Pity,” Rose grinned, wriggling to roll over onto her back.

“Cheeky vixen.  Don’t tempt me.”

“That reminds me,” said Rose.  “Are you free one night this week?  There’s a movie I’d like to see.”

He shifted a little closer.  “Are you askin’ me on a date, Rose Tyler?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

He paused thoughtfully before responding.  “How ‘bout Wednesday?  We could go somewhere nice for dinner first.”

“Such a long time from now,” pouted Rose.

The Doctor seemed transfixed by her pouty lips, staring at them hungrily.  “Need to get reservations, you know.  And other things…” he said dreamily.  He bent over to capture her mouth in a lazy, sensuous kiss.  Rose lifted her head to deepen it, but he pulled back slightly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled bashfully, a pink flush rushing to his ears.  “Morning breath.  Need to brush my teeth.”

Rose gave him a crooked grin.  “Didya worry ‘bout that when you were full-Time Lord?”

He shook his head.  “Nah.  Never had it, really.  Never slept for hours on end, for one.  I’ll never forget the first time I slept eight hours after I got here.  Woke up, thought something had crawled into my mouth and used it for a privy.”  They both burst into laughter just as they heard a sharp rap on the bedroom door frame.

Hal was leaning against the door frame, a smile on her lips.  “Good morning.  Are you two ever getting up?  It’s kind of lonely out here.  I can only drink so much coffee before I go Beavis and start vacuuming.”

“Good morning, O’ Great and Argus-Eyed Bundling Board!” saucily intoned the Doctor as he rolled to sit up.  “Yon maiden’s virtue is intact still.”

Hal cast her eyes mockingly to the ceiling.  “Will wonders never cease.”

“Mornin’, Hal,” Rose said sweetly.  “I could use a spot of tea once I clean up a bit.”

“No problem.  I laundered your clothes and placed them on top of the dresser over there,” she said, nodding toward a large cherry dresser along the wall.  “Linens and toiletries are in the bathroom.  It’s rather small, I’m afraid.”

“No smaller than the one in my flat!” chuckled Rose.  “Maybe we ough’ta buy a big house together with lots of roomy bathrooms, yeah?”

Rose’s jaw dropped at the audacity of her own suggestion.  The Doctor and Hal stared at her in wide-eyed wonder.

“Uhm… too domestic?” she squeaked, face burning in consternation.  

She felt the Doctor’s mind brush hers, as if probing gently for her motivations.  A faint glimmer of hope and astonishment emanated from him.

“I’d do domestic… if it’s with you,” he breathed.  Rose broke into a relieved smile.  She and the Doctor glanced together at Hal, who was gazing into nothingness at her feet.  A poker face gave away nothing.

“Hal?” asked the Doctor gently, concerned about Hal’s silence.

“Why would you want me hanging around?” she asked flatly.  Hal did not meet their eyes or change her expression.  

Rose looked pleadingly at the Doctor, not knowing what to say.  He rolled smoothly off the bed in response and approached Hal.  

“Rose wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t mean it,” he said sombrely, holding Hal by the shoulders.  “You already know how I feel.  How would moving in with us be any different from living with your sister?  You’ve lived with her most of your life, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” sighed Hal.  “She said I was… kind of rubbish… on my own.  I thought maybe… I thought perhaps I could prove I’d be ok on my own here.”  Hal held her arms out to indicate the flat, her tiny cave for so many years.  “I had Sid to keep me sane.”  She didn’t meet his eyes, afraid he would see the desperate loneliness that was beginning to consume her.  The sudden realisation that the Doctor had blasted through her carefully constructed armour left her uneasy.  Her life had irreversibly altered since meeting the strange half-alien being.

“You’ve successfully lived alone for five years, Hal.  Isn’t that proof enough that you can do it?”

She shrugged nonchalantly.  “Have you even set a date yet?” she asked obliquely, finally meeting his eyes with a wry smile.

“We’re going out Wednesday night to dinner and a movie,” he proclaimed proudly, favouring Rose with a huge grin.

Rose sputtered in mirth, clasping a hand over her mouth.  “Oh, Doctor,” she finally choked out.  “I think she meant a… uh… a _weddin_ _’ date_ , you nutter!”

“Oh.  Ooooh!” he groaned, slapping his forehead.  “Am I thick, or what?”

“You really want me to answer that question?” Hal asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s talk about that over breakfast,” Rose said, gathering her clothing.  “I’ll take the bathroom first, if that’s ok with you, Doctor.”

“Oh, certainly,” he replied, still keeping his eye on Hal.  He waited until Rose closed the bathroom door.

“Nice deflection, Hal.  But you’re talking to a tactical master,” he said in a serious tone.  “What’s wrong?  I can see that this isn’t enough for you any longer.  Sid’s a great computer, but he’s hardly family.  What’s holding you back?”

Hal looked away, swallowing hard.  “Isn’t it enough that I’ll eventually be separated from you?  Now you want me to expand my family… increase the scope of the pain?  So, what if you and Rose start having kids?  A lot can happen in the five years you’re waiting for the TARDIS to mature.”

“I would want our children to have a loving aunt who understands them; understands what it is to be different and brilliant,” the Doctor said quietly.

“You would do that to _me_ and to _them?_ Hal turned back to search his eyes for an answer.  The challenge in her dark sapphire blue orbs blazed boldly, but a mist was gathering that the Doctor couldn’t help but notice.  He took both her hands in his.

“Maybe you belong here with us.”

Hal closed her eyes tightly in pain.  “I can’t,” she whispered hoarsely.  “You know I can’t.  Every year that I am here, I age a year-and-a-half compared to Prime.”  She looked at him again in agony.  “I’’ll be elderly when she’s middle-aged!”

“We’ll have a TARDIS, Hal.  We’ll be able to go back later in time so that doesn’t happen, you know that.  We’ll just have to be careful not to cross our own timelines,” he tried to assure her.

“You’re assuming we manage to create a safe and reliable passage through the Void.  We may not.  It may be all that we can do to get you and Rose back here.  And even if we could create a stable passage, timing it would only work for a little while.  When one of us is gone, it won’t matter what universe we’re in.  We’ll know immediately, and I definitely won’t survive it.  Maybe Alan and the babies could persuade her… but, I _have_ to go back, I’m sorry!  So, please… don’t expect me to add to the pain I know I’m going to feel when you’re back here.  It’s too much for me.”

The Doctor sighed sadly.  “You’re so, so very much like me, Hal.”  He stepped forward and pressed his forehead against hers.  “You’ve seen what a misery guts I was; how much the other Doctor still is.  He’s terrified of accepting love; completely wrapped up in fear of loss.  He’d rather be miserable and lonely for the rest of his existence than watch someone he loves die before him.  What kind of life is that?  It’s not really living, is it?  Time is promised to no one.  He never really thought about how unfair he was being to those he loved, either.”

“Oh boy, here comes the guilt manoeuvre,” groaned Hal.  “Learn that trick from Jackie?”

“Nine hundred years old, me.  I could teach her a thing or two.”  He leaned back, fixing Hal with an understanding look.  “Perhaps it’s Rose and I who stay in Prime.”

Hal gave him a stunned look.  “Are you kidding me?  Have you talked to her about taking her back to Prime?  Does she even know what you’re planning?”

“Yes, I’ve told her,” he said with a soft smile.  

“You’d take her away from her family?  Permanently?”

“It’s Rose’s decision, ultimately,” he replied.  “She knows that if we survive the trip to Prime, we may be stuck there forever.”

“And the other Doctor?” Hal asked, knowing she didn’t need to explain further.

“That, too, is her decision,” he nodded.

“You’d take that risk, knowing how she feels about him?”

He gazed vacantly into the distance for a second, examining his feelings briefly.  “Yes,” he finally answered simply.

“Why?”

“I have to believe in our bond.  We’ll have five years together before that happens.  If we aren’t strong enough by then to overcome a memory, then something about us is wrong.”

Hal smiled.  “If it makes any difference, Doctor, I believe you will be much stronger than that.  I just wanted to make sure that _you_ believed that.”

“I hope you’re right,” he smiled back.  “Just promise me you’ll consider staying with us.  Come with us to pick out the right place.  You might find something you like.”

Rose stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed, a towel wrapped around her wet tresses.  “Well,” she said expectantly, “is it decided?”

“Not quite,” responded the Doctor with a smirk.  “I’m working on it.”

“We could find a place with lots of room on the lower level for Sid,” Rose remarked.

“Yup,” chimed in the Doctor.  “And he could keep company with the baby TARDIS.  She’ll outgrow the growth chamber at some point.  It would be wonderful to have her finish growing in our home.”

“Two against one… not fair,” Hal sniffed.

“What’s that you told me about _fair_?  Something like, it’s where you get a corndog and candy floss?” the Doctor chuckled.

“Something like that,” Hal said with a roll of her eyes.

“You’re up, Doctor,” said Rose.

“I am?” he asked in confusion, looking down.

“Shower!  It’s your turn to shower before breakfast,” she snarked at him in exasperation.

“Oooooh, I see.  Did I hear a bit of Jackie in that tone?” he mock-whinged.

“Better get used to it,” Rose snipped in a perfect imitation of Jackie Tyler, hands on hips.

“I see my work here is done,” Hal sang cheekily as she spun on her heels to go back to the kitchen.  

Rose followed Hal to the kitchen as a pouting Doctor slipped into the bathroom for his shower.

Breakfast was a peaceful affair, once the Doctor got told off for sticking his fingers into the Nutella jar.  He considered it a fair trade-off, considering he got the whole container to himself as a result.  Hal decided not to tempt him and secreted the marmalade jar into the cabinet, not unnoticed by the keen eye of the Doctor.  He pulled a face, but contented himself with his nearly full jar of ill-gotten goods.

“So, when do you think you’ll want to get married?” asked Hal casually.  “You’ll need to tell Jackie so she can start arrangements.”

“We can elope,” snapped the Doctor, a look of complete horror on his face at the idea of Jackie making their wedding plans.

“Mum’ll kill us,” Rose informed him without a trace of amusement.

“Not if she doesn’t know,” he insisted.

“There’s no way we can get married anywhere within the UK without her and Pete knowing.”

“Weeelll, we’ll be in Arizona next week,” drawled Hal.

“How long would it take to get a marriage license in Arizona, Hal?” asked Rose, suddenly excited by the idea.

“If it’s anything like back in Prime, you can buy a license and get married the same day.  Seeing that this Arizona is part of Mexico, I’m not too sure.  Doubt it would take two weeks, though.  It would probably take weeks, if ever, for the news to get back here,” Hal said.

“Oh, that’s _brilliant_ ,” breathed the Doctor, eyes wide.

Rose looked a bit dazed.  “Next week…” she pondered.  “I jus’ thought… We’d spend our weddin’ night in a tent?!?”

Hal burst into high-pitched laughter, almost bending double at the look on Rose’s face.  “No, no, no… none of that!  I’ll stay in the tent, but I’ll drop you two off at a hotel somewhere.  No way would I want you two sharing your wedding night with me, thank you very much!  A thousand acres isn’t big enough, even with a separate tent.”

“Where’s the nearest large town, Hal?” asked the Doctor.

“Well, depends on your definition of large.  I would say maybe Show Low — Pine Top, although they aren’t exactly large towns.  If you want a decent metropolitan area, there’s Flagstaff about two hours away.  But the Show Low area has lots of nice, clean hotel chains and isn’t too far away.”

Rose brightened.  “I like that idea.  What do you think, Doctor?”

“I wish it were this week,” he said wistfully.  “But yeah, I think that’s a fabulous idea.”

“Excellent, I’ll do some research to work out the details,” Hal said.  “Right now, I need to do some much needed maintenance on Sid downstairs.  Think you can behave yourselves?”

Rose and the Doctor looked guiltily at each other.  “Uh, yeah,” the Doctor muttered lamely.  “We’ll stay here and talk.”

“Hal reminds me of you, always tinkerin’ with the TARDIS,” grinned Rose.

Hal pursed her lips as if suppressing a snide response.  “Alright, then.  Give me an hour and I’ll be right back.”  She trotted into the living room and down the stairs, carefully hiding the knowing smile on her face.

The Doctor and Rose listened as the sound of Hal’s footsteps faded down the stairs.  They stared at each other expectantly for a minute, wondering who would start first.  Taking a deep breath, Rose flashed him a big smile.

“Are you alright?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“I’m always alright,” he answered automatically, examining a small crack in the kitchen floor tiles.  He checked himself and looked up.  “Stupid answer.  You never believed me when I said that, did you?”

“I always thought it was Time Lord-speak for very not alright.”

“You’d have been correct,” he said quietly.

“What about now?  You seem kind’a subdued, like.”

“No, really, I’m alright.  Just a little embarrassed, is all.”  He self-consciously rubbed his neck, a very familiar and very Doctor-like gesture to Rose.

Her brows knitted.  “’Bout what, exactly?  About us makin’ plans to marry?”

“Oh, no!  Never that, Rose.  It was my idea to elope, remember?  It’s just that… well… I’m not used to being out of control like I was yesterday.  Hate bein’ out of control, really.  Even if it’s the most wonderful feeling in the universe.”

“Was it?  The most wonderful feelin’ in the universe?” Rose asked, holding her breath and chewing on her bottom lip.

“It was,” he answered, nodding rapidly and emphatically.  “I’ve never felt anything like it, ever.  I’m still giddy, to be honest.  It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught, that Time Lords aren’t supposed to have emotions like this.  We were supposed to watch, not participate.  We were supposed to observe emotions and their effects, and then objectively catalogue them; not indulge in them.”

“So, you didn’t love your wife?”

He sucked in a deep breath, chose his words carefully.  “I did, at least in the beginning.  I think I was enamoured of her, more than anything.  She epitomised the ideal Time Lady.  She was from one of the oldest and greatest Houses, like my own.  Everything about her was refined, and her manner and social graces were impeccable, _quite_ unlike my own.  She had the type of breeding that every Time Lord sought in a mate.  I guess I was lucky, in a way, that our marriage had been arranged when we were children, because I’d never have successfully wooed someone like her.”

“Was she… pretty?”  Rose chewed at her bottom lip again after asking the question.  She had to know, although she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know.

“Perhaps I should show you, and you can decide for yourself,” he responded.  He reached across the table, fingers held in position to touch her face, and paused.  Rose nodded and leaned forward to make contact.  She felt his chilled fingers shake a bit as they settled on her temple, then the warmth of his presence in her mind caused their bond to flare up.

She closed her eyes, and immediately the image of a woman arose in her mind.  A beautiful woman, appearing about thirty years-old, swam into view.  She had high cheekbones, a softly triangular face, and cupid-bow lips that seemed naturally rouged.  Her hair was dark, almost black, and fell in soft waves to her shoulders.  Most remarkable of all were her eyes, which were a striking clear light blue surrounded by long thick lashes.  The contrast between her eyes and colouring was startling.  Rose thought her loveliness was only exceeded by the haughty expression on her face.  She did not look like she suffered fools gladly, to say the least.

_She’s beautiful_ , Rose said.

_She was,_ the Doctor replied telepathically.  _She is no more._

_And you left her?_

_Yes,_ said the Doctor softly _.  I left her and Gallifrey behind and travelled only with my granddaughter, Susan._

_What did Susan look like?_

He showed her; a young girl who appeared about sixteen or seventeen.  Fresh-faced and innocent with wide doe-like hazel eyes, she seemed too delicate to handle the rigors of life on the TARDIS.  Her dark auburn hair was cut in a cute short bob.  

_She fell in love with and married a human on Earth,_ the Doctor told her with a mixture of grief, pride and guilt.

Rose was stunned.  _What happened to her? If she was on Earth, did she survive the Time War?_

_No, she didn’t survive it,_ he said sadly _.  None of them did. The destruction of Gallifrey and the Eye of Harmony reverberated throughout Time and Space to wipe out every Time Lord in existence across the universe.  They and many of the other time-sensitive races just… ceased to exist.  There were no survivors._

_But you survived,_ Rose stated, struggling to understand the full impact of the Time War _.  Why did you survive if all the other Time Lords disappeared?_

Rose started as a scene faded in around her.  She found herself standing in tall blood-red grass blowing gently in a warm breeze.  Two suns beat down from an orange-tinged sky surrounded by rocky outcroppings on the horizon.  Rising tall and stately in the distance was a domed city of tall spires, some styled in a corkscrew pattern that reminded her of Eastern architectures on Earth.  Nearby, tall silver-leafed trees scattered beams of light as the leaves rustled in the breeze.  An exotic blend of fragrant unseen blossoms filled her nostrils with a heady, woody and spicy aroma that reminded her of the Doctor.  Sometimes, when she buried her face into his neck, a very similar woodsy spiciness wafted from his skin like natural cologne.

“I survived because I wasn’t here… I was at the heart of the storm _,_ ”he said.

Rose turned to find the Doctor standing at her side, wearing his blue suit and white trainers, a crimson tie knotted around his neck.  Hands in pockets, shoulders slumped, he appeared wearier, sadder, and far older than she’d ever seen him before.  His eyes were so dark, so deeply ancient, that it wasn’t difficult to imagine he was hundreds of years old.  Without a moment’s thought, she reached to pull one of his hands free and laced her fingers through his.

“This is Gallifrey,” she said with certainty.

“Yes,” he said simply.  “The Shining World of the Seven Systems, it was called; the birthplace, home and burial ground of the entire Gallifreyan race.  The city you see is the Capitol; also known as the Citadel, the home of the Time Lords.”

The scene faded, and they appeared on the floor of a gigantic auditorium of some type.  Stairs and huge turquoise flying buttresses surrounded them in-line with the six-sided floor.  Oval seating platforms projected from seemingly nowhere along the walls.  In each corner, a dark statue austerely stood guard, each figure a different person.  On one open area of a wall, a large gold and black symbol was conspicuously affixed and back-lighted.  It looked to Rose somewhat like an Infinity symbol turned on end, but in a restrained Baroque style.

“This was the Panopticon, the meeting place of the Council of Time Lords.  Beneath our feet lay the Eye of Harmony, a controlled, artificially-created black hole put in place by the Time Lord founders, Rassilon, Omega and the Other.  It was the source of power for all of Gallifrey and TARDISes, allowing us to travel Time and Space,” he told her.  

“The Time Lords were a very arrogant and xenophobic people, Rose.  Most of them refused to leave Gallifrey and travel.  I led many of the field forces in the War, and it was one of the most vicious, grisly and bloody series of battles the universe ever saw.  Most of the younger and non-time sensitive races were totally oblivious to what was going on around them. When the Daleks beat the Time Lords back to Gallifrey, we were virtually sitting ducks.  Once Gallifrey fell, there was no defence against them.  They broke through the protective barrier dome and overran the Citadel.”

He turned to Rose, a picture of abject misery and regret.  “We knew we had lost.  Once Gallifrey was defeated, the Daleks would conquer and enslave every race in the universe, and destroy what they couldn’t conquer.  I was given orders from the High Council to destroy the Eye of Harmony and all of Gallifrey, and to time lock Gallifrey so that no one would ever be able to go back to it.”

Rose gasped, dropping his hand and clasping both hands over her mouth.  Eyes widened in horror, she shook her head vociferously in denial.

“No!  No!!”  Rose backed away, tears springing to her eyes and streaming down her face with impossible speed.

The Doctor visibly deflated, rocked by intense waves of disbelief, disgust and horror echoing through the bond.  In an instant, all hope evaporated as Rose spun around and presented her back to him.  He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to look at him. With nothing more left to lose, he continued on.

“Yes.  I killed all of my people, including my entire family.  I was the one who destroyed Gallifrey, the Daleks and billions of other lives in one swift press of a button,” he stated mournfully in a quavering voice.  “I don’t know why I survived; I didn’t expect to, nor did I want to.  And the worst part is that the Daleks still survived somehow.  It was all for nothing.  I lived up to my name:  The Destroyer of Worlds; _Ka Faraq Gatri_ , the Bringer of Darkness.  The greatest murderer who ever existed.”

He closed his eyes, no longer able to watch the heaving shoulders, or listen to the racking sobs, of the woman he loved.  He didn’t deserve her.  She didn’t deserve the pain he had put her through; the disillusionment of seeing her hero had base brass feet.  Worse, actually.  He was a devil in disguise.  He held the bond open, allowing her violent emotions to lash him as he felt his single heart shatter into a million sharp irreparable pieces.  He hoped the unbearable pain would push him over the edge, stop his heart, and end his tortuous existence.

He let out a started gasp as he felt arms wrap around him, warm tears soaking into the fabric of his oxford.  Confused, he looked down to see the top of Rose’s blond hair, a quarter inch of new brown growth peeking up from her scalp.  She was still sobbing hysterically.  Not knowing what to do, not understanding why she would want to touch him or be anywhere near him, he embraced her anyway.  He dared not hope, so he held her quietly and silently.  After what seemed like a lifetime, Rose’s choked cries slowed.

“Why would they… do… that… to… you?” she asked between choking sobs.  “Why did they… make you… _choose?_ ”

Shocked speechless, he could only stare at her agape, his mind reeling in turmoil and astonishment.

Rose looked up to his face, her reddened eyes swollen almost shut.  “Why, Doctor?  Why did they make you choose?  Between the universe an’ your people?  Your planet?  Your entire family?  Billions of others?  _WHY?!?_   How could they do that?”  She clutched his shirt, pulling at it in agony, demanding an answer to her question.

His lips move soundless at first.  Finally, he found his voice.

“Because I was the only one who _could._   Because I was the only one who _would_ do it.  I was a rebel.  I was the least Time Lordish of the Time Lords.”

“’Es not _FAIR!”_ she shouted angrily.  “They made ya do it, and YOU HAD NO CHOICE!  It was them or the universe!  What bloody choice did ya have, Doctor?!?”

He shook his head, his mind still spinning out of control.  “But I did have a choice.  I could have refused and tried to find another way.  I was a rebel who, for once in his life, didn’t rebel.”

“NO, YOU DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE!” Rose shouted at him.  “I wouldn’t _be_ here now if you hadn’t done what ya had to do.  _None_ of us would be here!  But why did they pick you?  Why did it hafta be you???  Why wasn’t it one of them that made the decision who got picked to do it?  One of the High Council?  They’re a buncha COWARDS, that’s why!!”

Struck dumb once again, he simply stared at her enraged, reddened face.  Her lips were pushed out in grim righteous anger, her brown eyes flashing a fire he’d never seen before in her features, and he marvelled at the sight.

“All of this time, you been carryin’ around all that pain, all that guilt.  You been hidin’ it and tryin’ to ignore it.  You said you were always alright, when any fool could see ya weren’t.  You been pushin’ away love ‘cause you didn’t feel you deserved it, and it ain’t your fault!  You didn’t start the War.  None of this was your fault,” she said, gradually lowering her voice.  She placed her hand on his cheek.

“But… but it was, Rose,” he protested.  “The Time War was my fault.  I was sent to Skaro to try to handicap the Daleks.  To erase them from the timeline, if necessary.  It’s because I tampered with them that they declared war on the Time Lords, Rose.  I started the War.”

Rose snorted, the fire in her eyes burning brighter.  “Then it’s their stupid fault, again!  They sent you there on a mission, so it’s the Time Lords’ fault an’… an’ they brought it on themselves.  It wasn’t your fault, Doctor.  Nothin’ you can say will ever convince me otherwise.  They used you!  ‘Es not your fault.  You here me?  ‘Es… not… your… fault.”

He trembled as his legs suddenly lost their strength.  He felt his heart pounding in his chest, swelling to the bursting point with myriad emotions he couldn’t put words to.  His breath came in ragged gulps that he couldn’t bring under control.  The scenery around him blurred, began to spin as he lost the ability to project the vision and fell out of it.

They were in the kitchen again, his hand having disconnected from Rose’s face and fallen to the table.  Red-rimmed eyes met his as he gasped, his eyes wide as saucers and visage so pale that his freckles stood out like liver spots.  Sliding bonelessly from the chair, he dropped to his knees and keeled in slow-motion, face-forward onto the floor.

“Doctor!  What’s wrong?!”  Dropping to the floor in front of him in anguish, Rose tried to pull his torso up, but he wrapped his arms around his head and neck, groaning and refusing to budge.  She could feel the tumultuous whirlpool of extreme emotion flooding the bond, but she couldn’t make sense of it.  Terrified, she reached out psychically to Hal in a wordless plea for help.

She could hear Hal’s footsteps as they pounded up the stairs two at a time.  She appeared at the doorway, panting and taking in the scene at her feet.

“Help me,” Rose whispered, locking eyes with Hal.  “I… I dunno what’s wrong with him.”

“I knew he was upset, but I thought he had it under control.”  Hal dropped to her knees next to the Doctor and placed her hands at his temples, closing her eyes.

“Oh, you fool… let go!” she whispered into his ear.  “It’s ok.  You don’t need the pain any longer.  It served you well, but now it’s time to let it go.”

He sucked in a breath and held it, rocking to and fro.  Straightening, Hal grabbed Rose’s hands and brought them up to his face.

“Reach out to him, Rose.  He needs to let go of the pain he’s bottled up since the Time War.  He doesn’t know how to live without it.  He’s afraid to let it go!  He’s afraid it might consume him if he doesn’t control it.  He needs to know you are truly there for him.”

Rose nodded and placed her fingertips on both sides of his face, scrunching her eyes together as she concentrated on their bond.  She pushed herself against the wall of terror, calling to the Doctor as she swam against the tide of bitter anguish.  

_Doctor!  Doctor, I’m here!  Don’t do this to yourself, please.  Let it go!  Let me share this with you.  You don’t have to do it alone anymore.  I promise you, whatever happens, I’m here for you!  Do you hear me?!?_

She felt him respond, ever so faintly; like a tiny voice lost in a hurricane, she heard him.

_Rose… Rose… I don’t deserve you.  I don’t deserve your love.  I don’t deserve forgiveness,_ he whispered into her mind.  Such sadness, such pain and regret poured from him that her heart broke.

_Please, Doctor!  Don’t leave me alone!!  I’ve only jus’ found you again.  I can’t bare it!  Why do you always leave me behind?  What do I keep doin’ wrong?!?  PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME AGAIN!!_

At Rose’s final cry, the mental maelstrom buffeting her suddenly dissipated and died away.  She pushed deeper into his mind, not caring if it was an intrusion or violation.  He was _her_ Doctor, and she would make him safe.

_Yes!  Yes, that’s it, Rose,_ she heard Hal’s voice reverberate in her head.  _Go after him._   _You are the Bad Wolf, and he is yours.  CLAIM HIM!_

Rose felt a familiar power rising within her, golden tendrils of fire sweeping through her from an inferno buried deep within her mind.  She surged into him, lighting the darkness and burning away every obstacle that dared to oppose her.  In the distance, she could hear his ragged breath as she honed in on his centre like a guided missile, determined to find the very core of him.  She poured herself into him, filling every nook and cranny of his enormous mind, flinging dusty, long-forgotten doors open along the way, dismissing their contents as irrelevant to her goal.

Awestruck, the Doctor could do nothing against the onslaught of Rose’s advance.  He could only submit in dazed wonder to her relentless power.  Dropping all of his defences, he opened himself completely in welcome as she raced through every iota of his being, laying claim to all that he was and all that he would ever be.  He groaned as she penetrated the very core of his being, impossibly stretching and filling him with the power of her love.

He was a Time Lord, and she a human woman.  She shouldn’t be able to take on his consciousness so fully, and yet, she was.  A new core formed, burning impossibly hot and bright as a supernova.  It ignited, and for a brief instantaneous moment they transmuted into One.  As One, they saw all that ever was; all that is; all that ever could be in a flash of blissful insight that quickly faded as they drifted slowly apart, but not entirely apart.  

Rose blazed in his mind, a presence so deep and so right that he wondered at how he had existed without it.  He opened his eyes and sat up to stare into hazel eyes that reflected the same wonder.  Their bond flared with an unspeakable joy that they could barely contain, and for the first time in his life he knew contentment.  He was still the Doctor, and his pain would always be with him, but it no longer ruled him.  His heart and soul now belonged to the pink and yellow vision of light before him.

“Rose,” he said quietly.

“Doctor.”

He reached up to tenderly clasp her chin before leaning forward to whisper into her ear and into the bond.

Rose heard and felt a musical series of sounds fall from his lips; lilting Gallifreyan words of import that burned their way into her soul.  She smiled as the vision of the Doctor in all of his incarnations, the very essence of his being, and all of his future potential sprang into her mind.  She knew the name as well as she knew her own, and she leaned back to kiss him gently on the lips.  

Rose leaned forward again and, without a single stammer or pause, whispered her Gallifreyan name into his ear and through the bond.  She saw the Doctor’s eyes mist with the knowledge that this was the first time it was ever spoken.  It embodied all that she was, all that the human name Rose Marion Tyler could not, and it seared itself onto his willing heart.  They smiled broadly as the Doctor rose to his feet, pulling Rose up before planting a kiss on each hand.

He turned around to Hal, who sniffled and daubed at her eyes.

“Are you actually crying, you old softie?” he asked, laughter in his eyes.

“Yeah,” she sniffed, “but not for the reason you think.  Do you have any idea what hard work you two are?  I’m just glad it’s finally done.”

“Bet she cries at our weddin’,” teased Rose.

“You’re already married, so what’s there to cry about?”

“Yup,” laughed the Doctor.  “She’ll cry.”

“Shut up or I’ll give you a basket of pears for your wedding present,” Hal huffed.  “Oh, and congratulations Mr. and Mrs… whatever it is.”

Rose and the Doctor glanced at each other and chuckled.  “Hadn’t thought about that one,” Rose said.

“Just tell me it won’t be Lungbarrow,” Hal sighed.

“Weeelll, uhm…” the Doctor started to say.  

“Absolutely not!” snapped Rose, hand on hip.  

The Doctor looked back at Rose in mild shock, clamped his mouth tightly shut, and turned back to Hal with a smile.

“Yup, you are definitely a married man, Doctor,” Hal chortled with a crooked grin.  “Good boy.  You learn quickly.”


	25. Secret Service

 

On their way to the Tyler Estate, Rose and Hal were trying to mentally grapple with the changes that had occurred only that morning in Hal’s little flat.  Hal was driving Rose in the Porsche, as the Doctor had loudly proclaimed that he had an errand to run that wouldn’t wait.  Rose was a tad put out, not quite wanting to separate from the Doctor so quickly after their bonding, but the twinkle in Hal’s eye and her gentle persuasion finally convinced Rose to relent.  

“Soooo,” said Rose in the car, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks, “I guess you’re my sister-in-law now?”  She watched for a reaction out of the corner of her eye.  Although she hadn’t known Hal as well as she’d liked to over the years, she now felt a strong need to gain her acceptance.  Could it have been due to the telepathic connection they had shared last night, she wondered?

“Yeah,” answered Hal with an uncharacteristically shy grin.  “Guess I am, at that.  How do you feel about it?”

Rose stared out the side window for a moment, quietly gathering her thoughts.  “I think I like that, a lot,” she said after a pause.  She picked at her nails, looking uncertain for a moment.  “But how do _you_ feel about it?  I mean, I know how close you an’ the Doctor are an’ all, and ya helped us both to bond.  But ya didn’t do that jus’ ‘cause y’care for him so much, did ya?”

Hal glanced at Rose briefly before settling her eyes back on the road.  She chose her words carefully.  “Well, I did, but not simply because I care only for him, Rose.  It’s very clear to me that the two of you were made for each other.”

Rose winced a bit, looking vaguely guilty.  

“Funny,” she said, “that everyone saw that but me.”  She stared out of the window pensively, thinking back on how enraged she was at her “abandonment” by the “proper Doctor” after battling her way back to the Prime universe.  She had directed that anger at the only Doctor she could; the one who stood before her.

Hal could feel Rose’s morose feelings leaking through without so much as a glance.  “Don’t forget,” she reassured Rose, “I saw how desperately you tried to get back to the Doctor with the Dimension Cannon.  I honestly believe that you would have eventually died trying to get to him, had you not found him when you did.  I know it didn’t turn out exactly as you’d envisioned it, but I believe it turned out the way it was _supposed_ to.”

Rose sighed and slumped back into the bucket seat.  “I can’t believe how badly I treated him, Hal.  I jus’ couldn’t believe he was properly the Doctor.  If I’d jus’ let him do that telepathy thing with me, he could’a convinced me.  But I was so stubborn.  I wasn’t gonna let anythin’ stop me from goin’ back to the other Doctor.  I wasn’t havin’ any of it.  Was a right cow, I was.”

Hal shook her head sadly.  She could hardly be the one to judge.  

“Look at all the kind people who tried to befriend me, Rose.  I pushed them all away, you included.”

Hal’s face took on a grave cast as she recalled her first conflict with the Doctor.  “Let’s not mention how I almost killed the Doctor when he confronted me, thinking that he would call the Torchwood dogs down on me.  Fear and distrust makes us do lots of things we may regret later.  So don’t worry too much about how you treated the Doctor.  He is one of the most forgiving people I’ve ever met.  I assure you, he doesn’t waste a second thinking about what we did.”

Rose twisted a bit, adjusting her seatbelt to allow her shoulders to rotate, and looked directly at Hal, her lips drawn tightly.  “You know, he’s not always so forgivin’.  Sometimes… sometimes he doesn’t give second chances.”  

Rose’s voice faded away as she remembered the terrifying look of the Doctor’s face after dispatching the Sycorax leader with a well-thrown Satsuma.  The same look that he gave Harriet Jones when he destroyed her political career with a mere six words.  That was the kind of man that he was; a man who could wield the innocuous and commonplace as devastating weapons.

“He would forgive you anything, Rose.  You could destroy an entire universe.  He might howl up a Storm for a bit; but once the dust settled, he’d forgive you.”

Rose chuckled.  “Almost did do,” she muttered.  “He wasn’t too chuffed ‘bout that.  But, I trust you, Hal… a lot,” said Rose thoughtfully.  “You seem to understand the Doctor so well.  Better than I did, so early in our friendship.” She fixed her with another puzzled scowl.  “But how is it that I can feel you now, even though we’re not touchin’?  ‘Es like we’re bonded, too, or somethin’, now that me an’ the Doctor are bonded.”

Hal nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on the road.  She didn’t want to alarm Rose, who was so new to the hidden world of telepaths. She had been thrust into that world with little education or experience.  No more would her mind be blissfully silent, but she would hear the constant murmur and buzz of two other minds in the background.  Should she eventually give birth to little telepathic Time Tots, she would have to deal with the insistent undisciplined thoughts and emotions of even more minds.  Hal realised that she and the Doctor would need to gently guide Rose in the mental disciplines to preserve her sanity.

“You’re feeling me primarily through your bond with the Doctor, Rose.  There are no filters between you, unless you deliberately build them up.”

“Like the two of ya are doin’ now,” remarked Rose casually, but the feelings she was projecting belied her calm demeanour.

“Just trying not to overwhelm you, you know.  You’re not used to having the constant barrage of someone else’s thoughts and feelings in your head.”

Rose pressed further, sensing that she had not gotten to the core of the matter.  “But if I’m feelin’ you through the Doctor, how come I’m feelin’ you more strongly than him?  I thought that maybe the connection was fadin’ because of distance.  But if my connection with him is less because of distance, then how am I feelin’ you so well if it’s through him?”

Ah yes, she is a brilliant one, thought Hal proudly.  She struggled to think of a suitable explanation that wouldn’t blow the Doctor’s cover.

Rose smiled.  “I kinda felt that, you know.  You were thinkin’ I was brilliant.  An’ you’re coverin’ for the Doctor.  What are you two up to?”

“You are brilliant, and I’m proud to have you as a sister-in-law, Rose, so don’t ever worry about that,” Hal said with a chuckle.  

“An’ you’re almost as good as the Doctor with deflection, ain’t ya?”

“Oh, I’m _better_ ,” gloated Hal with a grin.  “That’s how I stayed hidden for five years.  But I can see that we’re not gonna get away with it as much these days, are we?”

“Nope!  Spill.”

Hal sighed, but she couldn’t help a hint of a smile.

“He’s shopping.  You know how he loves to shop.”

“Shoppin’ for…”  Rose paused, her arms crossed determinedly.

“It’s a secret,” squirmed Hal a bit.  “He’ll kill me if I tell you.”

“So, he’s shoppin’ for somethin’ for me?”

“Uhm… yeah.”

“Oh, let me guess,” squeaked Rose in false obtuseness.  “It’s a… a… a _ring!”_

Hal sat in stubborn silence, pretending to require all of her concentration on shifting lanes.

“That’s it, ain’t it?  It’s a ring.  An engagement ring,” Rose grinned.

Hal grinned.  “That would be telling.”

“Yup, lookin’ for a ring so me Mum won’t strangle him,” Rose said with a crooked smile.

“I know nothing,” said Hal, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“Ta!  But... oh, Mum’s gonna have kittens if she finds out we’re already married, y’ know,” Rose laughed in delight.  

“Hmmm,” Hal hummed in agreement.  “Probably best to downplay the ‘we’re married according to Gallifreyan law’ idea.  And how are you going to explain the civil elopement when we’re back from Arizona?  You know she’ll want to have the biggest social event of the decade out on the Tyler estate lawn.”

“But that’ll take months for her to plan, Hal.  I don’t think... oh, who ‘m I kiddin’... I _know_ I won’t be able to stay away from him that long.  Mum probably wouldn’t be happy ‘bout me movin’ in with him at the mansion, and I’m even less happy ‘bout that idea.  She may not be much more chuffed ‘bout him movin’ in with me at the flat.  I’ll have to tell her, eventually.”

“You may want to tell her well before you start shopping for a house,” suggested Hal.  The idea of a Jackie Tyler on the rampage frightened even the deadly shifter.

“Yup,” Rose grinned.  “But I really meant what I said, ‘bout ya comin’ to live with us.”

“I know, and I’m honoured,” Hal said, reaching over to pat to Rose’s arm affectionately.  “I’m simply concerned that I’d be an imposition to a newlywed couple.”

Rose adamantly shook her head.  “No, that’s not possible.  I would love to have ya there, and I know the Doctor would.  He misses ya’ a great deal after work hours when he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  I felt that through the bond.  We can find somethin’ spacious enough that none of us feel crowded.  It’s gotta be large anyway, if we’re to move the baby TARDIS.  She’s gonna need a lot of room to grow.  An’ Sid can help us security-wise, yeah?  We don’t want anyone to discover she’s there.” 

Hal nodded.  “True.  I spent a lot of time searching for the most secure place to live to protect Sid, so I can help you find a home that can be adequately protected.  We’ll discuss the rest then, ok?”

“Ok,” Rose said with a big smile.  “But don’t think we’ll give up easily.  Besides, aren’t ya gonna help us grow and train the TARDIS?”

Hal’s eyes grew larger as she chanced a glance at Rose.  “Wow... you’ve picked the Time Lord’s brain pretty well, I’d say.  Not bad for a newbie.”

“I saw an awful lot,” Rose admitted with a blush.  “Some of it I don’t exactly understand.  Some was right on the surface, like... how much he cares for you, and how he identifies with ya.  Then, there’s today after lunch, when he didn’t want to tell me why he was in such a hurry to leave.  So, he’s lookin’ for a ring…”

“Kind’a traditional, wouldn’t you say?”  Hal had given up the pretence of not knowing what the Doctor was up to.

“Hal, I got married sittin’ on your kitchen floor with a towel wrapped around my soppin’ head.  The Doctor and me don’t seem to ever do traditional.”

“True,” agreed Hal.

They both started when Rose’s mobile rang.  

“It’s Dad,” frowned Rose.  “Wonder what he wants.”  She answered with the speakerphone.

“Hello, what’s up?” Rose asked, speaking directly to Pete Tyler’s face on the display.

“Where are you?” demanded Pete.  “An’ where the bloody hell is the Doctor?”

“I’m on my way to the Tyler Estate.  Hal’s drivin’ me,” Rose said with a puzzled expression.  Pete seldom looked so grave during a personal call, so the subject must have been Torchwood business.  “The Doctor is out… shoppin’.”

“Tell his scrawny arse to get into the office… _now_.  I’ve been tryin’ to call him and he hasn’t answered or returned my voicemail.  I need both of you to come in right away.”

“Dad, what’s happenin’?  What’s so important that we have to cancel our holiday?”

Pete sighed.  “Hal, this is highly sensitive information, on a need to know basis.  Need I say more?”

“No, sir,” barked Hal as she took the next exit.

“We have a visitor at Torchwood Three.  He’s askin’ for you, Rose… and the Doctor.”

“A visitor?  Who knows me and the Doctor?  From _where?”_ Rose’s brows knitted, trying to discern the words unsaid.  It was obvious that this visitor wasn’t a Torchwood employee.

“I’m not sayin’ on the phone, but I’ll switch you over to Torchwood Three for a second,” growled Pete.  “Keep this under your hat and remember, don’t say anything until you get into the office on a secure comm line.  Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” muttered Rose, still confused and concerned.  She winged an urgent thought to the Doctor, letting him know that he needed to contact Pete.  She sensed his grumpy, but curious non-verbal response.

_Don’t be a tosser, Doctor!  This is Torchwood business.  I don’t care what you’re doin’ right now, call Pete back._

_Ok,_ he acknowledged with a mental sigh.

The visual on the phone switched, and an oval-shaped face with long dark hair and bangs appeared on the display.  In the background was the familiar, but alien, image of the Cardiff rift manipulator.

“Hello, Ms. Tyler,” said the woman with a pleasant lilting Welsh accent.

“Gwen,” acknowledged Rose with a curt nod.  “What have you got for me?”

“We have a visitor here who is insistin’ that he knows you… and our Doctor.”

“He’s not an employee?” asked Rose.

“Well, that’s sort o’ the mystery.  He claims he is a Torchwood employee, but… not this Torchwood, ye see,” hedged Gwen a bit.  She shifted her eyes slightly to the left.

A dark-haired man’s head appeared from the left of the screen.  He appeared to be in his late 30’s with box-jawed good looks and brilliant blue eyes apparent even from the tiny phone display.

“Hiya, Rosie,” the man said with a smile, in what sounded like an American mid-western accent.

Rose gasped loudly, and then dropped the phone.


	26. I Can Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose gets to talk to a very old friend. The Doctor grapples with an old fear, and Rose encounters an even older friend where she least expects to see him.

 

_A dark-haired man’s head appeared from the left of the screen.  He appeared to be in his late 30’s with box-jawed good looks and brilliant blue eyes apparent even from the tiny phone display._

_“Hiya, Rosie,” the man said with a smile, in what sounded like an American mid-western accent._

_Rose gasped loudly, and then dropped the phone._

“What’s wrong?” asked Hal sharply, at full alert after Rose’s reaction.  She looked into the rear view mirror before pulling over to the side of the road, having felt a strong jolt of shock racing through the familial bond.  Rose had both hands over her mouth, eyes wide and staring.

_What’s going on?!?  What’s happening to Rose?  Is she alright??_

Barely able to rein in her own thoughts, Hal fought off the Doctor’s panicked queries as she focused on Rose in the passenger’s seat.

Hands still clasped firmly over her mouth, Rose stared down at her feet as a tinny male voice echoed up from the unseen mobile.

“Rosie?  Rose?!?  What’s wrong, babe?  Why did the screen go black?”

“They didn’t have a collision, did they?” Gwen’s concerned voice asked from somewhere below the seat.

Rose gave another little gasp as she realized she’d dropped the phone.  She suddenly bent to grope below the seat, banging her temple into the console in her rush to retrieve it.  Wincing, she grabbed her forehead with the other hand as pain and the Doctor’s panic flashed through her head.

_Owww_ _… I’m ok, I’m ok,_ she finally signalled through the bond.  “Jus’ a mo’!” she shouted between her legs.  “I dropped the bloody mobile!”

Growling, she turned to Hal as she unbuckled her seatbelt.  “Tell the Doctor to please shut up, would’ya?  He’s givin’ me a headache an’ I gotta get out of the car to get the phone.”  Hal nodded as Rose wrestled her way out of the shoulder belt, swung the door open and leaped out of the car.

"Ugh, 's beneath your seat," growled Rose again. She ran over to the driver's side, throwing the door open with abandon as she reached behind Hal.

“Mind the traffic!” Hal gasped, checking the mirrors for vehicles as Rose strained to reach under the tight space.  

“Yeah, yeah… got it,” her muffled voice replied.  A delivery lorry whizzed by, sounding its horn angrily as it swerved around the open door.  Throwing her body back into the vehicle, she quickly slammed the door behind her and immediately addressed the mobile.

“Ohmygod, Jack!  Jack!” Rose yelped into the phone.  “How…?  Where…?  How did you get here?  Is it… ‘s really you?”

A big smile crept over the handsome man’s face, spreading to his eyes as crow’s feet crinkled the corners.  “Yeah, it’s really me.  It’sa long story, sweetheart.  Could you please tell your Director I’m not some weird alien here to eat people or subjugate the world?”  Jack halted in thought and put on a sly grin.  “OK, how about just telling him I won’t subjugate the world, and leave it at that?”

“Oh, wow…” breathed Hal, who was staring wide-eyed at the screen.  “That’s Captain Jack?  He’s even more gorgeous than I’d thought.”

“Who’s that, Rosie?” Jack asked, obviously amused and curious.

Rose twittered a laugh and twisted the mobile so that the front camera tilted toward Hal.

“’This is Hal, the Doctor’s sister,” Rose grinned.  “Say hello to Cap’n Jack Harkness, Hal!”

Hal giggled at the image of a stunned Jack, whose jaw had dropped almost to his chest.  “Hello, Captain Harkness,” she purred.  “See something you like, or are you just surprised to hear the Doctor has a sister?”

Jack made several choking sounds as his handsome jaw worked uselessly.  Shaking his head to clear it, he finally regained his voice.

“Uhh… _both?”_ __

Jack and Gwen’s faces disappeared from the display, replaced suddenly by Pete Tyler’s frowning visage.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Pete snapped.  “Our visitor will remain under custody at Torchwood Three until his identity is fully verified an’ we have determined he is of no threat.”

“Pete!  You can’t jus’ lock him up in the vaults,” Rose protested in outrage.  “Bring him to Torchwood One or we can go there, but you can’t just lock Jack up like some weevil.  He’s not a danger to anyone.  He’s a hero who helped save this world.”

“Jack Harness helped save this world.  Until I’m sure he’s Jack Harkness, he’ll be treated as if he’s more dangerous than a weevil,” Pete reminded her sternly.

Rose’s jaw tightened and jutted out in determination.  “Then send us to Cardiff on the jet, Pete.  Hal included.  The three of us can substantiate his claim, an’ Hal will make sure he doesn’t go anywhere until we do.”

Hal raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, but said nothing.

“Thought you’d say that,” smirked Pete.  “The jet is on the tarmac an’ the Doctor is boarding now.  Drive directly to the hanger an’ I’ll meet you there.”  Without another word, Pete signed off.

Hal drummed her fingers on her left knee, staring pointedly at Rose.  “Let’s say Jack Harness doesn’t want to spend any time in our lovely accommodations down in the bowels of the Hub.  Not that I blame him, of course.  What do you want me to do?” Hal said slowly, her eyebrow raised in question.  Easing the Porsche off the shoulder, she pulled out onto the road and quickly shifted up to speed.

Rose sighed.  “I may need you to help me convince Dad that ’s Jack.  If you can contact him telepathically, the Doctor and I can validate his memories.  If it seems ’s not Jack after all, we may need your help to… contain him if he tries to escape.”

Hal paused a few seconds, wondering if Rose truly meant what she thought she meant.  Was she truly asking her to use any means necessary to prevent Harkness’ escape from Torchwood Three?

“Wait… are you talking about… neutralising… him if he tries anything?  As in… stopping his escape from the vaults using conventional or _unconventional_ methods, right?”

Rose maintained her eyes forward, but nodded almost imperceptibly.  “Yeah,” she said in a low voice.

“How far do you want me to go, Rose?  I’m assuming you’re not talking about twisting his arm and making him cry ‘uncle’ until he goes back into the cell.  If he’s an ex-Time Agent and Torchwood operative in Prime, it’ll take a lot more than that to stop him,” Hal remarked grimly.

“Well, if he’s the proper Jack Harkness, he shouldn’t try to escape.  An’ if he does somethin’ stupid, he’ll jus’ come back even if ya kill him,” Rose said unsteadily.  “That’s what the Doctor thinks, anyway.”  She didn’t sound too certain about that.  Swallowing hard, she looked forlornly back at Hal.  “It won’t be your fault if he doesn’t.”

“Jack Harkness, the man you think of as your brother… you want me to kill him if we can’t prove who he is and I can’t otherwise stop him from escaping,” Hal checked carefully.

Rose tried to shrug nonchalantly.  “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but we can’t afford to have a possible alien threat runnin’ about London jus’ ‘cause he looks like someone close to me.  It could be a trap.”

Hal chuckled as she reached the slip road to the hanger, suddenly realising that she was, for the first time she could remember, seriously debating the idea of killing a potential threat.  And it was not a threat to humanity in general this time, but someone who would be within striking distance of her own family.  

Had the Doctor somehow corrupted her with his pacifist leanings?  Or was it that this man could be family himself?  Was it because he might be Rose Tyler’s adopted brother?  Hal shook her head in disbelief as she pulled into the hanger to park, wondering when things had gotten so complicated.

Contrary to Pete’s earlier conversation with Rose, the Doctor had not yet boarded the aircraft.  Pacing nervously below the stairs of the Embraer Legacy, he ignored the wildly gesticulating Pete standing in the hatch at the top.

“They’re here, so let’s go, Doctor!” Pete shouted irately.  Rose smiled knowingly as she took the Doctor’s elbow and gently guided him to the foot of the stairs.  

“Why do we have to go to Cardiff on an airplane, Rose?” he whined.  “Don’t we have a transmat unit somewhere about?  I’m sure I catalogued one or two from storage.”

“I forgot he doesn’t like flying,” explained Rose to Hal.  “Says they’re not safe.”

“They’re not,” pouted the Doctor, mildly resisting Rose’s nudge up the stairs.  “And I _love_ flying, I’ll have you know… just not on a massive metallic projectile cylinder held up by air resistance.”

“And a transmat is _safe?_ ” needled Hal.  “You could have your atoms scattered to every corner of the universe, and you’re ok with that?”  Like a border collie, Hal took up the rear to herd the Doctor upwards toward the hatch as Rose maintained her grasp on his arm.

“I’d rather go through the Void,” groused the Doctor.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” snorted Hal.  “It’s only a fifteen minute flight.”

He shot Hal a nasty look, not noticing that he’d reached the lip of the hatch.  They could hear Pete’s guffaw from the fuselage as the Doctor tripped and stumbled into the plane, pitching face-forward into Rose’s chest. Hal struggled to keep a straight face as Rose gave her a wide-eyed look of surprised embarrassment.  The Doctor, on the other hand, straightened himself and marched into the aircraft with a supercilious and unamused expression.

“Yup, he meant to do that,” Hal said facetiously under her breath to Rose, who hid a snicker behind her hand as the Doctor threw himself into a seat near the rear of the cabin.  Everyone buckled themselves in as the Doctor shot Hal an occasional glare.

“What?” shouted Hal over the whine of the jet engines as they taxied toward the runway, her face expertly schooled into an innocent expression.  Rolling his eyes, the Doctor petulantly twisted his body to face the cabin centre so that he didn’t need to look at the other passengers.

_This isn’t exactly how I imagined spending the remainder of my day,_ he sent her telepathically.  His dark tone told Hal he was inwardly seething, as if she couldn’t tell solely by his demeanour.  She glanced anxiously over to Rose, who was sitting on the opposite side of the row chatting with Pete.  Satisfied that Rose was too occupied to notice, she turned back to continue her silent interaction with the Doctor.

_He’s a lot prettier than you pictured him,_ said Hal.

_If it’s truly him,_ the Doctor grimaced.  _Even if he is Jack Harkness, stay away from him.  He doesn’t play for keeps._

_You’re assuming I would be,_ Hal smirked.

The Doctor’s face hardened into a fierce stoniness that made even Hal shrink back.

_You have someone waiting for you, if you’ll remember,_ he reminded her icily.  _And whether this bloke is really Jack Harkness or not, he has dreadful timing._

_True,_ agreed Hal with a slight nod, ready to change the subject. _Did you not find what you were looking for?_ she asked gently.

The Doctor’s face settled into a less sour cast.  _I found the perfect platinum setting, Hal.  It’s absolutely gorgeous; not too heavy, not set too high.  The jeweller was ready to set the stone while I waited, but that was when Rose called._

_You found a diamond, as well?_ Hal’s eyes lit up in curiosity, envisioning a massive and impractical bauble that Rose wouldn’t dare wear without a platoon of bodyguards.  She couldn’t imagine the Doctor would take such considerations into account when choosing a ring for the love of his many lives.

He turned suddenly with a canny smile on his face.  _Oh, not a diamond, Hal.  That’s not good enough for my Rose!  Oh, no._

_Not... not_ _a diamond,_ Hal sent flatly as her face fell.  If he hadn’t bought a diamond, what was he possibly thinking?  Suddenly things were starting to look a bit pear-shaped, knowing the socially-inept Time Lord halfling.  To a 21st Century Earth girl, there was nothing more valuable than good ol’ diamonds. 

_Nope,_ he said with a smug twinkle in his eye.  _A White-Point Star, Hal!  Probably the rarest gem in the Universe.  At least, now that Gallifrey is no longer._

_Oh, my gawd…_ Hal gaped.  _You pilfered jewels from the TARDIS?_

“ _Oi!_   Why do you always think I’ve nicked stuff from the TARDIS?” snapped the Doctor.  “It was _my_ stuff, too!” he ground out indignantly.

“Nick what?” asked Rose.  She and Pete were staring at the Doctor at his sudden outburst.  Like a deer caught in the glare of oncoming headlights, he froze in terror.

“What’s a White-Point Star, Doctor?” Rose frowned in puzzlement.  She had caught a stray thought from the startled Doctor, but the image was nebulous at best.  Whatever it was appeared to glitter in the sun, but it had obviously been the subject of some conversation between the Doctor and Hal.  What more had he hidden in those big dimensionally transcendental pockets when leaving the TARDIS?

“Well… it’s… it’s sort of like a... uhm, Warp Star,” he bleated, “only… white.  And sort of, well… pointy...”  

He could tell from Rose’s blank face that he had clearly not answered the question to her satisfaction.  The image of a blank wall he had put up in a panicked attempt to throw her off the scent obviously hadn’t helped, either.

“Oh, and far, far less explosive,” he babbled in a rush.  “Nothing, and I mean nothing, like the one Sarah Jane had!  Now that, _that_ could have destroyed not only the Crucible, but half the Medusa…”

A muffled announcement from the Captain blared through the speakers, warning them that they were beginning their approach to Cardiff and mercifully cutting short the Doctor’s rambling.  He took advantage of the interruption to switch subjects yet again.

“Oh, thank Rassilon!  I don’t think I can stand another minute on this miserable flying piece of metal rubbish,” he groaned loudly, melodramatically whipping his head back and forth in mock anguish.

“What a pity,” Hal said drily.  “We have at least five more minutes of listening to your weeping, wailing and teeth gnashing.”

“Who’s weeping?” growled the Doctor, his bottom lip beginning to emerge in an all-out pout. “I’m not _afraid_ of flying in airplanes, you know.  Doesn’t mean I have to _like_ doing it.  Bleedin’ big waste of time, this is.”

“Riiiight,” grinned Rose, poking a bit of tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she caught Hal’s eye.  In her peripheral vision, she saw the Doctor’s pout transform itself into something a bit more heated as he focused on her mouth.  With a slow smile she languidly faced forward, pretending not to notice his vacuous mooning. Feeling particularly evil, she fired off a very explicit and smouldering image that lit up their bond like a fiery whip.

“Guh!” gulped the Doctor, face turning a vivid red as he squirmed in his seat.  Turning to take a look at the door of the head positioned at the back of the cabin, he swallowed deeply as the blush crawled to the tip of his ears.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Hal with a slight frown.  

“Nothing!” he squeaked, slowly crossing his legs.  A slight sheen of perspiration had arisen on his forehead and he was wheezing like a bellows, Hal noticed.  Just on the verge of sneaking a quick peek into his mind, she stopped when she heard a titter emerge from behind Rose’s hand.

“Ah… never mind,” Hal muttered.  The Doctor slid gradually down into his seat under Hal’s teasing gaze as the plane began its descent.

Rose felt a tickle at the back of her head, almost as if the Doctor were sitting next to her and purring into her ear.  Gooseflesh rose as she felt a pleasant warmth rising up her spine.

_Oh, my dear Rose Tyler,_ the Doctor’s inner voice crooned softly as the stroke of a butterfly into her mind.  _Remember that he who laughs last, laughs best, my dear wife and bond mate._

With that, Rose inexplicably felt ghostly intimate caresses flit simultaneously across several erogenous zones, setting her very nerves on fire.  She gasped loudly, jerking and grasping her armrests in a death grip.  Pete and Hal both jumped in surprise.

“’M…’m… Ok,” Rose assured them.  But before she could relax back into her seat, she felt another wave of more substantial sensations; strokes and caresses that would have sent her vaulting out of her seat, had she not been strapped in.  She bit her bottom lip, hard, to keep a shriek from emerging from her lips.  Clasping her thighs tightly together and slowing her breathing, she tried desperately not to come undone harder and more quickly than she’d ever experienced in her life.  

Eyes wide, she turned her head slowly to look back at the Doctor, who was slouched casually down into his seat.  He had his hands peaked serenely over his nose as if meditating; his dark eyes impossibly black as they locked onto hers.  The steamy, bold stare he was giving her sent a delightful shiver up her spine.  She recognized that stare.  It was the primal and possessive stare of her old Doctor; the blue-eyed one in black leather, who could make her melt into a puddle of submissive goo within seconds of a well-placed glance.  Steeped in unmistakable want and desire, that look pinned her speechless into place.  

_He_ was here.  Not just her second Doctor, who she finally accepted was incarnate in a new body; but her first Doctor, the Doctor she had fallen in love with the first time, was buried deep within the same brown eyes, wild hair and a pretty boy freckled face.  She hadn’t lost him, he reminded her once again.  He was here, right behind her.  

The urge to unclasp her seatbelt and drag him bodily into the head, just as she’d teased him earlier, almost overwhelmed her.  She never felt the wheels of the jet as they touched the runway; she was too mesmerized by the hypnotic blackness of her mate’s gaze.  A mate, she suddenly remembered with wonder, with whom she had not yet consummated their marriage.

_Soon,_ he promised her with a dark self-satisfied smile.  _Very, very soon._ __

No sooner had the little jet pulled up to the terminal, the Doctor unclasped his seatbelt and sprang from the seat in a manic dash to get off the little twelve-seater.  In a blatantly deliberate move, he managed to elbow Hal in the head as he passed.  She spat out a pointed expletive, rubbing the side of her head as she scowled.

“Good Rassilon, do you actually eat with that mouth?!?” the Doctor grimaced, as he hurriedly waved on the co-pilot to open the hatch.  Whether it was because he wanted off the plane due to a phobia, or from fear of Hal’s retribution, wasn’t immediately clear.

“So that’s how we’re gonna roll today, eh?” Hal asked, her eyes flashing dangerously. She unbuckled her belt just as the co-pilot cracked open the hatch.  

“Gotta go!” chortled the Doctor.  “Things to do, eh?  Immortals to see.”  He leapt off the aircraft without waiting for the stairs.

“Eh,” shouted the co-pilot, “’E’s not ‘spose t’ do that!”

“He does that,” all three of the passengers said in one voice.    


	27. The Devil Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete, Rose, TenII and Hal reach Torchwood Three to interrogate the purported Jack Harkness. Jacks does a little interrogation of his own.

 

The limousine ride to the Millennium Centre was uncomfortably silent, punctuated only by the occasional stern glare and quiet slurp of Torchwood’s current Director.  He had reached unerringly for the liquor cabinet and a newspaper, in that order, before seating himself.  Clutching a whiskey glass firmly in his hand, Pete had forbidden a single word from the group until they reached the Hub.  “If you’re gonna act like a bunch of wild children, I’m gonna treat ya like a bunch of unruly children,” he’d chastised them gruffly as they climbed into the stretch limo.  

The Doctor’s earlier mad dash from the Embraer had not gone well, to say the least.  Several of Cardiff airport’s finest had rushed to greet him on the tarmac with drawn weapons and a decidedly unfriendly command to lie face down on the asphalt.  In true Doctor fashion he’d launched into a babbling lecture on the error of their ways, only to find himself tackled by the two thoroughly unconvinced officers.  Thrown to the ground and handcuffed, the Doctor continued his pointless diatribe.  

“This…this is exactly why I don’t like flying!  Some welcome to Cardiff, this is,” he complained shrilly as one of the officers shoved his face into the tarmac with a well-placed arm.

An hour later, Pete reluctantly managed to rescue the Doctor from a nice long sit in jail, but not without a stern warning and a hefty fine to Torchwood.  Incensed, he had delivered a sharp tongue-lashing to the contrite Time Lord that wouldn’t be soon forgotten.  “Should’a suggested they give ya a full-body cavity search,” he’d snapped irritably as they walked to the kerb for the limousine.  “You really need to learn when to shut that gob of yours, Doctor!”

Chewing on her lip to suppress the smirk that was threatening to emerge, Hal made it a point during the ride to stare at the darkening bruise arising over the Doctor’s cheekbone.  Ignoring her and keeping their bond dampened out of spite, he leaned heavily against Rose.  He gazed plaintively up to Rose with injured puppy-dog eyes as she gently stroked his scraped knuckles in loving sympathy.  It was a look that was not lost on Pete as he marvelled at the change between the two lovers.  For an alien, he thought, the Doctor was very effective at emotional manipulation when he needed to be.

Rose felt as if she could fall into those huge melted-chocolate brown orbs of the Doctor’s.  She could tell that he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

_What is it?_ she asked softly through their bond, continuing to brush feathery strokes over the back of his bruised hand.  _I can tell you’re holdin’ somethin’ back, you know._

He smiled warmly, noting that Rose’s inner voice was becoming stronger and more confident; more like her outer speaking voice.  He could close his eyes and easily see her face.

_This isn’t where I wanted to be today,_ he sent her with a deep sigh.

_Where did you go this morning?  You seemed in such a hurry_.  Rose’s brow crinkled a bit at the memory of the Doctor’s insistent rush from the flat so soon after a light breakfast.

_I… I wanted to get you something, Rose.  A little gift and emblem of our bonding.  It was supposed to be a surprise, and I wanted to give it to you… tonight._

Rose’s face fell in dismay as she noted the mist gathering in the Doctor’s eyes.  She could feel how upset he was getting.

_No, no!  Doctor, please… we have a date on Wednesday, remember?  You can give it to me then.  I promise I won’t try to sneak a peek into your mind before then, yeah?_ She smiled encouragingly, desperate to lift the Doctor’s spirits.  She had seen him brought low before, but nothing could prepare her for the dual slam of his emotions against her heart.  Her own eyes were starting to tear up in empathy.

_I don’t want to wait until Wednesday.  Tonight’s actually… technically, anyway… our wedding night, you know,_ he said dismally.  _Are we really going to spend it alone, Rose?  Tonight, of all nights?_

_Haven’t wanted to sleep alone without you for years, Doctor,_ Rose admitted with a serious look that quickly swept the mist from his eyes.

_How long?_ He suspected he knew, but masculine pride demanded affirmation.

Shutting her eyes, Rose sent him a flash of one of her favourite fantasies; one in which she was grasping large ears above her and pulling down to bring a pair of cupid-bow lips to hers.  The smell of leather, sandalwood, and sage washed over her as bright blue eyes widened in surprise.

She opened her eyes again to meet a pair of brown ones that were as round and owlish as she’d ever seen them.  She almost giggled, but stifled the reaction with a quick hand.

_Stay with me tonight, please,_ he begged of her.  _Wherever we are tonight, whether here or London, just stay with me._ _I don’t want to be without you.  I don’t think I could bare it!_

_Ok… ok, I don’t want to be without you on my weddin’ night, either, Doctor,_ Rose said with a tight squeeze of his hand.   _This is all so sudden.  Didn’t have time to think about it properly.  But where?  Not at the mansion, that’s for sure,_ she grimaced slightly.  

_Oh no… no, no, no!  No way, with Jackie Tyler in the house,_ he said, aghast.

Rose grinned and saucily stuck the tip of her tongue through her teeth.  _Might cause some performance issues, eh?_

Drawing himself up a bit stiffly, the Doctor became the very picture of wounded pride.

_Not at all, Rose Tyler,_ he insisted, his eyes flashing with dark humour.  _I was thinking more of how not to disturb Pete and Jackie in the middle of the night, when I’m making you scream loud enough to bring the house down._   

Rose’s pupils dilated as she visibly shuddered.  She couldn’t stop staring at his lips as hers fell open slightly.  She was fighting to keep her chest from heaving as her pulse and respiration kicked into high gear.

_But ‘m not a screamer…_ she responded so faintly that he barely picked it up.  The corner of the Doctor’s mouth twitched in mirth.

_Oh, but you will be…_

_You’re a bad boy,_ Rose chided him gently, all the while thinking how she wanted to climb him like Mount Everest.  

_Oh, yes._

_Filter!  Filter, dammit,_ the Doctor heard in a psychic groan.  Hal thumped him between the shoulders in frustration, bringing an instant frown from Pete, who had heard none of the telepathic interchanges.

“What was that about?” Pete asked stiffly.

“He’s broadcasting telepathically, Pete!” Hal offered as explanation.  “I can barely hear myself think.”  She didn’t mention that she’d heard the inexperienced Rose even more clearly.  If she was to be reprimanded, it was her sibling she intended to throw under the wheels of the Pete Tyler bus.  With 900+ years of experience and decades of mental training, he should know how to shield his thoughts properly.

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself perfectly clear,” Pete said through clenched teeth.  “When I said not another word, I meant of any kind; oral or telepathic.  Is that understood?!?”

All three nodded their heads meekly as the limousine mercifully arrived at its destination.

Much to everyone’s surprise, the Doctor sedately exited the limo in front of the Millennium Plaza on the Plass, turning around to view the panorama without a word.  Pete waited until they gathered around him, and then walked obliquely toward the gleaming water tower as casually as possible so as to not attract attention to the small group. __

“Ah, _Plas_ _Roald Dahl,_ Rose,” whispered the Doctor, unable to maintain silence another second.  “Brilliant writer, Roald Dahl, you know!  Did I ever tell you I met him?”

Rose smiled up at him, shaking her head.  His heart constricted at the look she was giving him, so much like the smile she used to wear when they travelled Time and Space in the TARDIS, seemingly so long ago.  The urge to kiss her shot through him like a lightning bolt, and it took every ounce of self-control he could muster to stop himself from sweeping her into his arms.  He clamped down hard on their bond to keep from overwhelming her with his surging rampant emotions.

“Ever read _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ , Rose?  How about _The_ _Fantastic Mr. Fox_?”

“Nope,” she replied.  “Saw the _Willy Wonka_ movie, though, with Gene Wilder.”

“Fabulous movie, but the _book_ was much better,” he said.  “Helped him write both those, would you believe?” he grinned proudly.

“Right,” a dubious Rose drawled, and then laughed.

“No, seriously.  I did!  Just think about it.  I love chocolate, and I’m a little bit foxy.”  He gave her a surreptitious wink as they reached the base of the water tower.

“Stand close,” Pete instructed the Doctor.  Rose, who had been to Torchwood Three on many occasions, stepped in front of the Doctor and pressed her back into him.  He blinked in surprise just as a platform of paving stones beneath their feet started sinking below the level of the Plass.  A smile spread over the Doctor’s face as they gradually descended. Stealthily placing his hands on Rose’s waist, the Doctor pulled her tightly to him as if relying on her to maintain his footing. 

“That’s close enough, Doctor,” remarked Pete evenly without looking directly at the two.  

_I so hope the guy won’t make a run for it because as soon as this is over, you two need to get a room,_ Hal said to the Doctor and Rose.

The Doctor leaned forward.  “Your place?” he whispered into Rose’s ear.

“Mum has a key,” she whispered back.

_Oh, bother!  Forgot all about that, he directed to her telepathically._   _Don’t you have a deadbolt, or something?_

_Gotta_ _key t’ that, too,_ Rose responded in kind.  _As if a deadbolt would stop Mum, with or without a key._ __

_Bugger._ _Now I think I_ am _gonna start having performance issues,_ the Doctor whined. __

As they cleared the lift channel into the atrium of the gigantic Hub, the Doctor whistled softly.  The Hub was impressive, even by his standards.  A leathery-winged pterodactyl eyed them hungrily as it soared past, startling the Doctor.  He clutched Rose tightly and spun her around in an attempt to shield her, causing Pete, Rose and Hal all to laugh loudly.

“Myfanwy,” Pete explained.  “She came through the rift an’ was captured by Ianto Jones in a sort of rite of passage when he requested transfer to Torchwood Three.  She’s now the team’s mascot.  Hopefully, they’ve fed her already.”

“You’ve never been here before?” asked Rose, curious.  “I would’a thought you had, considerin’ Jack was based here.”

“Nope,” he said with a vigorous headshake.  “Always landed on the Plass to refuel the TARDIS and never set foot into the Hub.  The only time I saw the interior was on a monitor.  Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones, remember?  Me askin’ Gwen if she was from an old Cardiff family?”

“Oh, yeah!” Rose grinned.  “Spacial genetic multiplicity.  She’s a dead ringer for Gwyneth, the servant girl we met in Cardiff in 1869.”

A broad smile of sheer pride broke out on the Doctor’s face.  “You’re brilliant, you know that, Rose Tyler?”  Mentally damning the consequences, he pulled her into a kiss.

Clearing his throat, Pete gently reminded them of where they were.  “We’re on official Torchwood business, you two.  Let’s get through this, and if all goes well you can have the next two days off duty, eh?”  They stared at him in wonder.  “You, too,” he turned to Hal.

“That’s… that’s extremely generous of you, Pete,” murmured the Doctor.  

“Thank you, Pete,” said Hal, knowing that the Doctor was rubbish at showing gratitude.  

“Ok, so let’s rock and roll, boys and girls,” said Pete as he stepped off the lift.

Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones were standing at the foot of the lift to greet them.  Formal introductions were made all around, given the presence of the Director.  Rose sternly warned the Doctor telepathically not to creep out Gwen by telling her he’d met her doppelgänger in 1869 Cardiff Prime, along with Charles Dickens and the incorporeal body-snatching Gelth.   

“Coffee or tea, anyone?” asked Ianto politely.  

“Perhaps a bit later, Ianto,” answered Pete rapidly.  “We need to get right down to business, if you don’t mind.”

“Right, sir,” responded Ianto professionally, pointing and leading the way to the lower levels.  “Mr. Harkness didn’t seem all that pleased to see me,” he remarked in a matter of fact tone.  “From the moment he arrived, he stared at me as if he knew me.  But when I asked if we’d ever met, he never answered.  From his expression, you’d think I’d done something horrible to him.  Are you aware of any ill-will between Jack Harkness and the alternate Ianto Jones, Ms. Tyler?”

Rose shook her head.  “No, Ianto.  An’ please call me Rose,” she said with a soft smile.  “I can’t think of any reason why he would dislike you.  Jack led the Torchwood Three team in Prime, an’ the other Ianto was part of that team.  Or at least, Jack mentioned Ianto fondly when I saw him last.  He was very proud of his team, an’ very loyal to them.  The only rift I could see between them is the one bein’ controlled by that rift manipulator up there.”

Ianto nodded, accepting her explanation as they stepped into the darkened aisle lined with Plexiglas cells.  With a squeak, Rose ran past several cells with weevils to stop in front of one lit brightly from the ceiling.  She placed her hands against the clear barrier and whispered through one of the circular openings.

“Jack!”  

A tall man in a long World War II styled long coat was sitting on the bench on the back wall, slouched over as if broken and defeated.  At Rose’s harsh whisper, his head shot up.  In two steps he was at the glass, placing his hands parallel to Rose’s as a genuine smile spread across his handsome features.

“Rosie!  It’s so wonderful to see you.  You look… positively scrumptious, my dear,” he said with an appraising look.

“Stop it,” snapped the Doctor, with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.  

Harkness looked up with a squint to peer into the darkness.  Stepping forward so he could be seen, the Doctor sidled up to Rose and stared down his nose at the detainee in his best arrogant Time Lord manner.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Doc,” Harkness chuckled with a huge grin.  “You look positively good enough to eat, too!  But… what happened to your face?”

“It’s definitely him,” the Doctor said over his shoulder, ignoring both compliment and question.

“Why?  Because he’s tryin’ to chat you up?” asked Rose with a grin.

“No,” he said without cracking a smile.  “It’s because he’s still a fixed point in time.  A temporal anomaly that makes my Time sense reel, even here in Pete’s World.  I’d forgotten how difficult it was to even look at him.”

“Sorry, Doc.  Guess some things don’t change, huh?”  He was still smiling, but there was no hiding the hurt in his bright blue eyes.

“Let him out, Dad.  Please!  He doesn’t belong down here in the Vault,” pled Rose.  “You heard the Doctor!  It’s the proper Jack Harkness.  He can’t fake bein’ a fixed point in time.”

Ianto raised a finger.  “Well, technically, this isn’t the Vault.  It’s the storage area below the Hub.  The proper Vault has the cryo-chamber where we keep the…”

“Yes, thanks for that, Ianto,” interrupted Pete.  “Can you please release Mr. Harkness from the cell?”

Ianto hesitated for a very brief second before Hal placed a hand on his elbow.  “Don’t worry, he couldn’t get past me if he wanted to,” she said with a confident smile.  Jack’s eyes latched onto Hal’s as Ianto quickly unlocked the cell door to release him.  He stepped out and scanned the diminutive researcher from foot to head.

“Hello,” Jack greeted her with a curious and wolfish smile.  “So you’re the Doctor’s sister?  Really?”

Hal backed up to a rolling metal table against the opposite wall, and then sinuously and casually hopped up to seat herself on it.  Without thinking, she had gained a height boost of several inches so that she was closer to eye level with the ex-Time Agent.

“Really,” she answered, her face as inscrutable as a cat’s.  

“Doctor never mentioned havin’ a sister before,” fished Jack.

“Didn’t know he had one at the time,” she countered.

“Where’d you come from?”

“Same place as you,” she replied cryptically.

“You sound like you’re from Chicago,” Jack remarked, cocking his head.

“You sound like you’re from Joliet,” Hal said, drawing her legs up into the lotus position.  

Jack grinned broadly.  “Well, I’ve been to Joliet.  Spent time in the prison there a long time ago.”

“Been there, too,” she responded.  “But never in the prison.”

“But I’m not originally from Joliet,” Jack said, moving closer.

“And I’m not originally from Chicago,” Hal stated evenly, raking her eyes over Jack as she slowly gave him the once over.

“Is this goin’ somewhere?” Pete asked irritably.  He turned to the Doctor, who was already in a full-blown scowl of Time Lord spleen.

“It’s goin’ _nowhere_ , _fast_!” spat out the Doctor.  “Harkness!”

Jack never blinked an eye as he continued his interrogation.  “So… just how were you planning to stop me, Hal?  It is Hal, right?  May I call you Hal?”

“Just Hal,” she said.  “And I have multiple alternatives.  The simplest of which is this,” she said as she reached behind her to slowly pull out a large Beretta from beneath her t-shirt.

“Oooh, I like your gun, Hal!” spouted Jack in glee.  “And I dearly love dangerous women.”

Hal gave him a sly smile.  “I like your coat, Captain Harkness.  It would be a shame to put holes in it.”

“It’s Jack.  And I sort of like it myself.  Prefer it without the holes, for sure.”

The Doctor’s mouth had dropped open in astonishment as he stared at the handgun in Hal’s hand.

“Where’d the bloody hell did you get that?!?” he squeaked in outraged indignation.  “I took that gun from you once already.”

“No, that was Monday,” Hal sniffed.

“Today is Monday, Hal.”

“No, you took my Beretta named Monday on a Wednesday.  This one is Tuesday.  Although, I suppose I should start calling it Monday, since I don’t have a Monday any longer.”

Staring at Hal in confusion as he tried to decipher her logic, the Doctor started pacing and rubbing his hair in agitation.  

“Oh, she’s definitely your sister, Doc,” Jack nodded.  “That’s classic Doctor she’s talkin’ right there.”

Pete jumped in at that point.  “Wait, did you bring that with you?  On the plane?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Hal said with an innocent glance up at her boss’ livid features.

The Doctor jumped back into the fray, having figured out what Hal really meant earlier.  “Wait!  Oh, wait!  If that one is Tuesday, and I took Monday away from you, how many do you actually have, Hal?!?”

Hal cleared her throat and stared at the ceiling in exasperation.  “One for every day of the week,” she sighed.  “At least, until you took Monday away last week.”

“Six?!  You have six guns, Hal?” he yelped, almost going ultrasonic.

“No, stupid,” she snipped.  “I have six Berettas.  You asked me about the Beretta’s, not guns in general.”

The Doctor spun on his heels, pacing and scrubbing his face in anguish.  Jack broke into a loud and boisterous belly laugh until tears started streaming down his face.

“And she’s rude and not ginger, too… just like you,” Jack gasped, still laughing.  “Not to mention, very, _very_ hot.”

“Hmmm,” Hal hummed.  “And to think, I was just beginning to like you.”

“Rose, take that thing from her!” ordered the Doctor, gesturing at the gun loosely held in Hal’s hand.

“Uh uhh,” said Rose with a rueful shake of her head.

“Pete!?” he implored, looking at the Director expectantly.

Pete shook his head with a slight frown.  “Doctor, if ya want the gun, you gotta go get it yourself.”

Satisfied that no one had the gumption to take away her favourite toy, Hal tucked it back into place in her trouser yoke, pulling her t-shirt smoothly back into place.

Pete caught her eye and levelled a stern warning look.  “You’re not bringin’ that back to the airport, Hal.  Give it to Gwen or Ianto before we leave.  They’ll make sure it gets back to ya, understood?”  Hal nodded and dropped smoothly down to the floor.

“You’re an itty bitty little thing, aren’t you?” an amused Jack noted, looking down on her.

“Don’t let her height fool you, Jack,” snorted the Doctor.  “She can take you down in the blink of an eye.”

“Oh, I hope so,” Jack quipped with a twinkle in his eye.  He felt a slight tickle against his mental shields, and astutely took in the widening of Hal’s pupils.  Instinctively, his Time Agent training took over as he tightened his barriers against intrusion.  Although not a strong telepath himself, Jack had plenty of experience with telepaths and recognized their whispery touch.

Hal’s expression became unreadable again as she felt Jack’s feeble attempts to push her out.  She could easily have brushed the barriers aside, but for now she chose to bide her time.  As usual when someone had something to hide, she immediately became suspicious.

“Well, is anyone ready for a coffee or tea now?” asked Ianto.  

A pained expression passed over Jack’s face as he faced the Torchwood associate.  “The Ianto Jones I used to know made the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he said softly.  “I’d love some, thanks.”

“Alright then, it’s settled,” Pete said with a nod.  “We have an awful lot of questions to ask you, Harkness.  We can do it over tea upstairs.”

The five went upstairs as Hal took the rear, ever watchful.  Jack glanced back at her every few steps, wondering what thoughts were going through the depths of those compelling deep blue eyes.  What would she really think of him, he wondered, if only she knew what horrors lurked behind his bright blues?


	28. Nobody's Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets "interviewed" by TenII, Rose and Pete in the Hub. He fills them in on shocking events in Prime since they parted company, all the while trying to keep a tight cap on his undeserved feelings of anger and betrayal towards TenII.

 

Jack smiled to himself as he emerged into the open area of the Hub, glancing about to spot differences between it and the Hub in Prime.  He swallowed hard to repress the prickling behind his eyes, remembering that his old Hub, the Hub in Prime, had been utterly destroyed.  And he had been Ground Zero, the very epicentre of the explosion.

The searing, blinding pain of the incinerating bomb within his belly was insignificant.  The excruciating torment of slow reconstruction from bloody body parts was nothing compared to the hellish agony of cumulative emotional loss as time progressed.  The emptiness left behind after the deaths of Suzie, Owen and Tosh was little more than a prelude to the soul-destroying events of the next year.  He could no longer keep tally of the losses, and it no longer mattered.  He himself was lost.  He’d lost his way, his reason to be, and his faith in the one person in whom he had held the deepest regard.  

Jack knew he was emotionally overwhelmed.  This was the last place he’d expected to be; the very last place he would ever have imagined he’d turn up.  Hell would have been a more likely possibility, had he believed in a Hell. The last people he’d expected to encounter were Rose, the duplicate Doctor, Gwen and Ianto.  Perhaps there truly was eternal damnation, after all.

He was inwardly overjoyed to see Rose.  Like a puppy sentenced to certain death in a pound, he had leapt up in supplication at her arrive.  She was the one bright spot in this awkward and baffling situation.  After the Doctor dropped him off in Ealing post-Medusa Cascade, he had no idea what had happened to her.  For months he’d assumed she was again traveling with the Doctor full-time.  It took mere seconds to dash those hopes into shards.  Seeing her here in the alternate universe, accompanied by the duplicate Doctor, was all he needed to complete the puzzle. 

The Doctor had stuck to his old M.O., it seemed.  As usual, he’d dumped his companions off and ran when they got too close.  This time, he made sure the ones who could tweak the maximum guilt were permanently trapped on the other side of the Void.

Bitter anger arose like corrosive acid into Jack’s chest as he followed Pete to an enclave with a wooden table surrounded by several seats.  He glanced sullenly several times at the duplicate Doctor as the human-Time Lord meta-crisis moved to seat himself at the farthest end.  Jack tried to remind himself that none of this was the copy’s fault.  His face and voice were identical to the Doctor’s.  His stance, swagger and demeanour were dead-ringers for the full Time Lord’s.  But he wasn’t quite the Doctor, now was he?  He was as much an orphan as Rose.  

But he shared the same memories.  The duplicate Doctor would remember abandoning Jack on Satellite Five.  He would remember fleeing the Millennium Centre in the TARDIS to the very end of the universe, Jack clinging desperately to the ship’s surface through the Vortex.  Jack hadn’t survived that trip, and vowed never to travel through the Vortex without a ship again.

But the duplicate Doctor owned no memory of the worse to come.  He was born and stranded in an alternate universe long before the ultimate betrayal occurred.  He couldn’t remember because he hadn’t experienced the event; he wasn’t properly _him_.  But perhaps he had a modicum of insight into his progenitor’s thoughts.  Perhaps _he_ could answer the one question that had haunted Jack for every minute of every hour since the arrival of his worst nightmare, the _456_.

Jack tore himself away from overly familiar circular thoughts; thoughts that drove him mad every now and then.  He focused on Pete Tyler’s face as the man seated himself directly across from him.   Putting on his stoniest expression, he waited.  Jack had once led Torchwood in the other universe.  He was not about to show weakness to his alternate counterpart.

“Captain Harkness,” began Pete, “please tell us how you came to be here, if you could.”  Pete nodded thanks to Ianto, who placed a steaming cup of tea in front of him before turning back to a tray loaded with beverages for the others.  Pete quietly observed how Jack carefully avoided making eye contact with Ianto, keeping his eyes steadily on Pete’s face.

“I’m not quite sure about that myself,” Jack answered flatly.  Pete waited, but Jack seemed disinclined to continue.

Rose, who sat to his immediate left, leaned forward and placed a hand on his sleeve.  “Jack, it’s ok.  This isn’t the old Torchwood here, either.  Pete here is tryin’ to make it better, less hostile.  He’s not jus’ a good Director tryin’ to reform Torchwood, he’s my Dad, too.  Trust us, please.  I promise ya, no harm will come to ya.”

Jack allowed himself a tiny smile and a quick appreciative glance at Rose before turning back to his stare-down with Pete.

“A more important question might be, _when_ were you when you left your universe, Jack,” commented the Doctor at the end of the table.

“How long have _you_ been here now?” asked Jack as he laced his fingers together and dropped his gaze to them.

 “I think we’re askin’ the questions here,” injected Pete.

The Doctor held up his hand.  “No, that’s a completely reasonable question for an experienced time traveller, Pete.  Can’t create a paradox, an’ all that, you know.”   He faced Jack again.  “But we’re in a different universe, Jack.  Not quite sure you can create a paradox here with knowledge from the future of another universe that we’re no longer in.” 

“How long?” insisted Jack, shifting his laser-like stare to the Doctor.     

“A little over four months.”

Jack let out a sharp laugh.  “That’s got to be the first time I’ve ever heard you be imprecise about time measurements,” he chuckled mirthlessly.

“I fell into a black hole,” Jack wryly remarked.  “Suddenly found myself here.”

A thunderous silence fell across the table as the Doctor’s jaw dropped.

“Impossible,” snapped Hal.  Her eyes blazed in angry disbelief as her lips formed a thin line.  “Anyone can fall into a black hole, but no one comes out.”

“I did,” Jack told her simply and unapologetically.

“Rubbish!”

“Maybe it was because I was drunk?” Jack quipped.

Rose shook her head in puzzlement.  “I don’ understand, Jack.  I thought nothin’, ‘cept maybe a TARDIS, could escape a black hole.”

“No TARDIS,” he answered evenly.  “No FTL ship, even.”

“You’re not making any sense, Jack,” interjected the Doctor.  “How did you end up falling into a black hole without a ship?”

Wearing a slightly crooked smile, Jack held up his forearm and pointed to the Vortex Manipulator strapped to his wrist.

The Doctor’s frown grew.  “I thought they had a failsafe that didn’t allow you to jump into a vacuum, a sun, a black hole, or other stupidly dangerous environments.”

“Disabled it,” Jack responded, seemingly amused somewhat by this line of questions.

“So,” Hal said slowly, leaning forward a bit aggressively, “you got drunk, disabled the failsafe on your Vortex Manipulator, jumped into a black hole, and woke up here.”

“Actually, I disabled the Vortex Manipulator first, then got drunk, jumped into the black hole, died from asphyxiation, and woke up here,” Jack corrected her calmly.

“And a bigger crock I’ve never heard,” Hal huffed before flinging herself back into her chair.

“But… why, Jack?” asked the Doctor softly.  His eyes morphed into a pained, compassionate look as it dawned on him that Jack had deliberately tried to end his life… permanently.

Without supplying an answer, Jack’s face remained frozen in a quirky smile that never reached his eyes.  He glanced over to Hal, who continued her icy glare.  Jack felt an inexplicable urge to please her, and he was failing miserably judging by her expression.

“Whether it was your intention to mate with a black hole or not, you shouldn’t have ended up here,” stressed Hal.

“He couldn’t pass through, right?” asked Rose.  “I thought a black hole was a solid mass, not a portal like a wormhole.  You should have been torn to sub-atomic particles, Jack.”

“And then your subatomic particles would have merged with the singularity, not slingshot you here into Pete’s World,” Hal added.  “The odds of you ending up here are…”

“Beyond astronomical,” finished the Doctor.  “Impossible, even, as Hal said earlier.  But I’ve seen a lot of impossible things in over 900 years.”

Jack’s wry smile melted away.  “It’s been fourteen months since I saw you last.  And a lot has happened.  More than I know how to describe.”

“Like what, Jack?” asked Rose.  “The Doctor… is he ok?  Have you seen him?”  She couldn’t see the Doctor wince at the end of the table, but she blinked as she felt a flinch through their bond.  “The other Doctor,” she added hastily in an attempt to mitigate the damage, “in the other universe.”

Jack was torn, not sure if telling Rose the truth was not only unwise, but would simply be unkind.  A mist gathered in his eyes as he wrestled with conflicting emotions, glance slowly sliding away over the other table occupants, until he suddenly become aware that Hal’s gaze was fixed on him.  He reflexively tightened his shields.  Her jewel-like blue irises bore into him, reminding him of the hard stare of a stalking predator.  

Noting her huge blown pupils, the experienced Time Agent and Torchwood leader shivered in spite of his resolve not to crack.  He had been mind-probed by strong telepaths several times in the course of his Time Agency career; a most unpleasant method of extraction.  He suspected Hal approached the level of an empath.  If that was true, he was clearly out of his league and probably didn’t stand a chance against her.

“Jack?”  Rose’s eyes widened in alarm at Jack’s lack of response, fearing the worst.

“I… I dunno, Rosie.  I… I’ve only seen him once, just for a second, a few months ago in a bar at a remote outpost.  We didn’t speak.  He didn’t look… quite well.”

“What?” Rose asked faintly as blood drained from her face.

“I’ve heard he’s been seen since, that he’s different now.  Kind of floppy hair.  Not quite as tall, but still pretty thin.”

“He regenerated,” the Doctor sighed in wonder and a little shock.  

“Yeah,” Jack nodded.  “That’s my guess.”

The Doctor roused himself from astonishment long enough to frown.  “Is he ginger?”

Jack shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  Would think someone would have noticed and mentioned it by now.”

“Good,” smirked the Doctor.

“Uhm, is his hair colour important, Doctor?” groaned Pete.

“Probably not,” he replied.  “Although, if I can’t be ginger, why should he?  But what caused him to regenerate, eh?  What kind of trouble did he get into this time?  Wasn’t Donna there to keep him in line?”

Rose stared horrified at the Doctor with her mouth slightly agape.  She watched as a dark cloud of sadness seemed to pass through him at the mention of Donna, although his face remained impassive.  Jack glanced away and blinked, his lips held into a tight line of silence.

“He wiped her memory, didn’t he?” asked the Doctor softly.

“Yeah.  She’s back in Chiswick living with Wilf and Sylvia.  She has no memory of who she is, or who any of us are,” Jack sighed.  “Tried to visit her, but Sylvia shooed me off.  Said the Doctor told her that Donna would burn and die if we triggered any of her memories.  She’s back to temping.  Married some guy named Shaun Temple… who checks out as a nice guy, in case you’re wondering.  They got a winning lottery ticket as a wedding present, so they’re doin’ ok.”

Swallowing audibly, the Doctor stood and stepped a few paces away from the table.  He addressed Jack without turning around.  “So he’s travelling by himself now?”

“He clearly travelled alone for a while after dropping us all off,” said Jack.  “By all accounts, he’s pretty sad and rubbish on his own.  I’m not sure if he has any companions now that he’s changed.  There have been rumours that he had a fiery young red-head with him after regeneration, but nothing I could substantiate.”

“But he was alone when you last saw him?  As me?”

“Yeah, he was alone,” Jack nodded almost imperceptibly as his eyes became suspiciously glassy.  “I don’t think he had a companion after losing Donna.”

“She was his best mate,” the Doctor whispered _soto_ _voce_.  For the first time, Hal’s attention shifted from Jack to the Doctor.  Her face softened slightly as she reached out across the bond to emotionally bolster him.  Taking in a sharp breath to steel himself, he turned back around to face the Captain again.

“So what caused him to regenerate?”

 “I was traveling off world at the time.  But the Master returned and tried to bring the Time Lords back.”

“What?!?” shrieked the Doctor, leaning onto the table on knuckles.  “What?  He tried to what??  How could the Master return?  He was _dead,_ Jack!  Literally dead.  Dead as a doorknob!  He died right in my arms on the Valiant, remember?  I built and set fire to his funeral pyre myself.”

“Whoa, just a minute.  Can I be creating a paradox somehow?” Jack asked, rapidly becoming unsure.  As far as he could tell, they were trapped in this universe.  How could they interfere with the events of a past in a parallel where they didn’t exist?  “Should I be telling you this stuff, Doc?”

“No,” the Doctor answered automatically, centuries of Time Lord training clashing with alternate reality.  “I mean, yes!  I can’t interfere with events in the other universe because they’re discrete temporal systems, so it’s fairly safe.”

“Fairly safe?” asked Pete, cocking his head slightly to elicit more information.

“Unless we go back there an’ tamper with the timelines usin’ knowledge of that universe’s future,” mused Rose.

“Then we won’t,” resolved the Doctor.  “Jack has given us the knowledge we need to avoid a paradox.  We’ll avoid the timelines between the moments we arrived in Pete’s World to the minute Jack crossed over.  ”

“Oh, right.  Jus’ steer away from problematic timelines and Bob’s your uncle,” Rose said dryly.  “Not like we’ve ever overshot the mark, or anythin’.”

“Shush,” chastised the Doctor with a thin smile.  His Rose was so brilliant, so brave.  And she knew him so well.  

“You have the means to cross back into the other universe?” Jack asked, impressed.

“Not yet,” he answered distractedly, still preoccupied by the thought of the Master’s return.  “Now, explain to me how the Master returned to Earth, Harkness.  This has got to be a good one.”

“According to the intel I got, he was resurrected from a signet ring he wore.  And something odd to do with Lucy Saxon.”

“Biometric imprint,” muttered the Doctor.  “They must have taken a biometric imprint of the Master from Lucy and used it to recreate a body for him.  His Time Lord essence would have been hidden in the ring.”

“Well, something went wrong, Doc.  Something went terribly wrong.  Those who saw him said he had a type of energy flux that would make him look like an X-ray image at times.  He was often nicknamed “Skeletor” by the survivors.”

“Survivors?” asked Rose.  “What did he do?”

“He used technology stolen from Torchwood, called The Immortality Gate, to transform every single human on the planet into a copy of himself.”

“Immortality Gate?  What the devil is that?” frowned the Doctor.  

“I think it was a medical device developed by the Vinvocci to heal entire planets of pandemic diseases, mostly.”

“Vinvocci… Vinvocci…” muttered the Doctor as he started to pace around the table again.  “Do I know the Vinvocci?”

“Greenish humanoids, spikey heads.  Distantly related to the Zocci,” Jack said.

“Ah, yes!  The Zocci.  Met a Zocci named Bannakaffalatta on the Titanic.  Spikey-headed little bloke with strikingly red skin.  Related, you say?  But I’ve seen technology similar to that used by the Sontarans.  Much easier for them to use one of those, since they’re cloned anyway.   Who cares if your genome gets overwritten by the cure?  Sort of like the nanogenes, eh?  Remember the nanogenes, Rose?  Probably bought the technology off-world, though.  Can’t see that they’d develop it for themselves, but…”

“Doctor!” hissed Pete.

“Anyway, so what did he do next?”

“He somehow configured the Immortality Gate to bridge a gap in time to Gallifrey,” Jack said calmly, wasting no time in getting to the point.

Eyes growing round in horror, the Doctor stammered as he stood behind his chair, grasping it tightly.  “That’s… that’s… that’s completely impossible.  He couldn’t.  No one could!  Gallifrey is time-locked.  No one can get in, no one can get out!”

“Not only did he use it to reach the Time Lords, Doctor, but he brought Gallifrey to the Sol system within Earth’s orbit.  There are videos of the planet appearing in the sky.”

“Gallifrey was triple the mass of Earth, Jack.  The gravitational force of the planet would have reduced Earth to rubble,” argued the Doctor, who still could not quite accept what he was hearing.

“It almost did do, Doc,” Jack agreed.  “Somehow the Doc… somehow _he_ defeated the Master and sent Gallifrey and the Time Lords back into the time-lock before much damage was done.  A report states that he received a massive dose of radiation during the battle.  I saw him just shortly after that.  So did Sarah Jane, Martha and Mickey.  He must have received a lethal dose that caused him to regenerate at some point in his timeline, but not before saying goodbye to many of his companions.”

Despondent, the Doctor met Rose’s eyes.

_He doesn’t look like me any longer, Rose,_ he sent to her dismally.  _At least before no one would question if we were related.  Now, it’s like being orphaned all over again._

_He’d still be your brother… or… whatever you’d call him.  That doesn’t change with his face._ Rose’s eyes narrowed.  _But wouldn’t ya have felt something?  I know he’s too far for ya to communicate through the Void, but wouldn’t ya  have felt some kind of change?_

_I dunno,_ he answered honestly. _I don’t think it’s happened yet in our timeline.  That’s… that’s almost two years into our future here on Pete’s World.  And remember, Jack is coming from **their** future, as well, not simply ours._

_Timey wimey,_ thought Rose. __

_Wibbley_ _wobbley,_ he added, still amazed at how easily Rose caught on to the concepts of Time.

“Are you two communicating telepathically?” Jack asked, pointing his finger back and forth between the Doctor and Rose and interrupting their train of thoughts.

The couple looked startled as both hazarded a glance at Pete, who was leaning forward in his chair with a stern face.

“You are, aren’t you?” Jack needled them with a smile.  “How the heck did that happen, huh?”

“It’s none of your business,” snapped Hal.

“Guess that explains a lot,” snorted Pete.  “Never known himself here to be so quiet.”

“We’ll explain later, Pete,” Rose said, face quite flushed by now.

“You’d better, or Jackie will have all of our hides.”

“So what are you hiding, Harkness?” asked Hal as subtle as a laser cannon.  She was not letting Jack off the hook by allowing him a diversion.  She could see through his frantic attempts to cloak thought and memory from her.  Anticipation of the Doctor and Rose’s displeasure was the only reason why she had not already stripped back his barriers like a cheap shower curtain.  She needed sufficient cause to avoid their ire, but she was growing impatient.

“I’m not hiding anything,” Jack shot back smoothly.  “If you don’t like my answers, you’re asking the wrong questions.”

“Why did you try to end your life?”

“It had already ended.  I was just trying to stop the pain,” remarked Jack.

“It’s all my fault,” choked Rose.  “I’m so sorry, Jack!  I didn’t mean to do that to you.”  Tears were gathering and coursing down her cheeks at the thought of how much pain Jack Harkness must have endured in order to throw himself bodily into a black hole as the ultimate remedy.  He had longed for death, and she, Bad Wolf, had denied him that.

Horrified, Jack whirled around to grasp Rose firmly by the hands.

“No!  No, no, sweetheart.  It wasn’t your fault!  None of this was your fault.  You brought me back to life because you loved me.  You just didn’t know how to control it, but it was an act of love and I’ll always, always, be grateful for that.  How I misused that life wasn’t your doing.”  Jack’s resolve to stay in control broke as unshed tears pooled in his eyes, intensifying the blueness. He threw his arms around Rose in a tight embrace as a choking sob escaped her.

Sighing loudly, Hal hugged herself in utter frustration as she rolled her eyes plaintively at the Doctor.  He shrugged in answer, although he was clearly unhappy about Harkness’ proximity to his wife.  Even worse, it broke his heart to see Rose crying, and yet he knew he needed to give her time to reconcile with Jack.  Making a show of staring at the clock behind Pete, he gave out a loud sigh of his own.

_This is taking far too long,_ he complained silently to Hal.

_Hello?!?  This could have been over a long time ago, if you two weren’t such sticklers about privacy, psychic intrusion, and all that malarkey._

_It’s not malarkey, Hal.  You can’t keep going into people’s heads without asking.  It’s just plain rude,_ lectured the Doctor.

_Hmmph_ _._ _Ok, Mr. Rude and Not Ginger, you’re the subject matter expert on social graces, so I’ll defer to you.  But that clock on the wall says it’s the afternoon of your wedding day.  We can continue interrogating Tithonus over there until the cows come home, or…”_

_Do it,_ he said after a moment’s hesitation, _but do be subtle about it.  Just remember, Hal; if Rose has a pop at me, I’m taking you down with me._

_I’ll just tell her it was all your idea because you’re jealous of Captain Beefcake,_ Hal pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head slightly in warning.  _Don’t, Hal.  Just don’t._

_Funny, but he doesn’t seem to want you quite like you thought he did,_ mused Hal as they watched Jack comforting Rose _._

A twitched passed through the Doctor, his face a mixture of emotions. _Maybe he doesn’t believe I’m him,_ he said sadly.

_Maybe something happened.  Maybe you are all too much like him,_ suggested Hal.

The Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly, a mountain of guilt rising up in his chest.  _Jack waited for me.  He waited longer than anyone else has ever waited._

_Then something is very, very wrong,_ Hal insisted.  _He refuses to look you… or Ianto, or Gwen…directly in the eyes.  There is something there, and he is trying to bury it as deeply as he can because he knows I can get to it._

The Doctor watched as Rose slowly pulled herself together, dabbing at streaks of mascara with a monogrammed handkerchief pulled earlier from Jack’s pocket.  Harkness reluctantly withdrew back to his chair as Rose reassured him that she was ok. 

“Shall we continue now?” Pete asked gently.

Jack looked uncertainly at Gwen and Ianto, hovering about quietly at the periphery.

“I think it would be best if only essential personnel are present,” Jack said as diplomatically as possible.  Pete barely flicked an eyelid before the two Torchwood agents withdrew with a slight nod and melted into the Hub’s interior.

Jack turned slightly and fixed his gaze on Pete.  

“Have you ever heard of a species designated the 456?”

A blank look descended over their faces, except for Hal, who was giving Jack an unnerving implacable stare.  He felt nothing troublesome coming from the tiny blonde, but he directed his thoughts to focus on the least damaging parts of his story, just in case.

“No, doesn’t ring a bell,” answered Pete after a minute of thought.  “Should I?”

“Pray they don’t exist here,” Jack muttered solemnly.  “They came to Earth in 1965, and again in 2009.”

“I don’t remember that,” frowned the Doctor.  “And I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning such a species visiting Earth.  Who were they?  Obviously the 456 is a human designation?  Where did they come from?”

Jack stiffened.  “You wouldn’t have heard of the 1965 event.  The government kept first contact under wraps.  No one knows where they’re from, but they first communicated via radio wave.  The frequency became their designation. We’ve only had contact with them twice, and only made visual contact with one individual during the second incident.”

“What physical characteristics did they have?” asked the Doctor, putting on his specs and typing furiously on his smartphone.

“They appear to have three heads that look like plucked swans projecting from a central body, and breathe an atmospheric mixture of 25% nitrosyl chloride, 22% hydrogen chloride, 20% nitrogen, 12% fluorine, 9% hydrogen cyanide, 6% acetone, and 6% phosgene,” Jack responded.

“That’s a rather nasty combination,” the Doctor said with a scowl.  “With a physiology like that, what resources could Earth possibly have that they’d be interested in?  Our atmosphere would be poisonous to them.  What did they want?”

Jack swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to his tightly clutched hands. 

“Our children,” he said quietly.  “Human children.”

“What?!?” ground out Pete.  “What do you mean, they wanted human children?  For what?”

“They used human children as living recreational drug manufacturing plants.  They’d splice the children into their own bodies.  Somehow the children were kept alive, but they remained conscious and aware.  The 456 were drug dealers, essentially.”

Rose could not hide the look of disgust on her face as she shuddered.  “Why, Jack?”

Not looking up, Jack shook his head slowly.  “I dunno, Rose.  I just don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty as to accuse an entire species of being drug lords, Jack,” said the Doctor with a hard look.  “But I have to ask… If they came in 1965, what did they get?  Why return in 2009 unless you’re looking for more of the same?”

Jack closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.  “A secret governmental body arranged a trade with the 456 in 1965.  Twelve orphaned pre-pubescent Scottish children were delivered to the 456 in return for an antiviral drug used to treat a virulent strain of Spanish influenza.  Millions would have died from influenza, otherwise.  Per agreement, the 456 were never to return.”

“Oh yeah!” snorted the Doctor, “that always works.  Supply drug addicts with drugs and then expect them never to return.  Brilliant!  Because that’s what the 456 you encountered were, Jack.  They were drug addicts, and it was the government that was really the drug lord!”

“I find that unbelievable, Captain,” Pete said in disbelief.  “I refuse to believe the government would barter _human children_ for a flu cure!”

“Believe it, Pete,” the Doctor said, standing up and starting to pace rapidly around the table.  His face was drawn into a stiff angry mask as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.  

“They were all from an orphanage; wards of the state,” breathed Jack.  “No one would miss any of them.”

“That’s awful!” shouted Rose.  “I can’t believe no one stopped it, Jack!  Where was Torchwood?  Where was the…”

“What happened in 2009, Jack?” interrupted the Doctor.  

“They communicated directly to the world’s population by linking telepathically to every pre-pubescent child on Earth, demanding 10% of all Earth’s children be given to them.”

“Or?”  The Doctor’s voice cracked like a whip and he spun around on his heels.

“Or they would destroy Earth,” Jack said, finally looking directly into the Doctor’s face.  “They released a virus into Thames House as a demonstration, killing almost everyone in it.”  A single tear rolled down the handsome former Torchwood leader’s cheek, although his expression never changed.  Grief shown from his eyes like lonely beacons, however.

“I lost Ianto in Thames House,” choked Jack.  “He died in my arms.  He told me he loved me, and then he died!  I died next to him.  I woke up.  He didn’t.”

“Oh, no,” whispered Rose, covering her face with her hands.  “That’s why you were lookin’ funny at Ianto here.”

“My team is gone,” continued Jack.  “They’re all gone, except Gwen.  Tosh, Suzie, Owen, Ianto; all dead now.  The Hub was blown up in an attempt to kill me.  Torchwood was later disbanded by the government.  Gwen and I were declared dead.”

“But how did you get rid of the 456?” asked the Doctor.  

“A man named Dekker, who knew more about the 456 than anyone, helped what was left of my team to build a reconstitution feedback wave and transmit it back to the 456 via the children.  It was based on a wavelength the 456 used to kill one of the original twelve children.  He escaped before they could pick him up and reached adulthood in a mental institution.”

The Doctor stared fiercely at Harkness, his eyes turning stormy and so dark that Jack could no longer distinguish his pupils.

“That means that you would have had to employ a primary transmitter to get it to the children, Jack.  That transmitter would have to be a child,” he stated flatly.

“Yes,” Jack choked out, his face a picture of devastation.

The click of a safety button gliding into the off position caused them all to look up sharply.

Hal rose slowly from her seat, arms outstretched with her Berretta aimed at the centre of Jack’s forehead.  Her finger curved tensely around the trigger, she gradually backed up as her eyes blazed almost preternaturally with fury.

“Tell them,” she growled in a low voice.  “Tell them who actually _gave_ the 456 those children!  Tell them how you fried an innocent baby like a ten cent diode, _you bastard!”_


	29. Stay Out of Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TenII discovered his Time Lord powers aren't as diminished as he once thought.

 

Jack Harkness wished he could say he had not become used to staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.  He wished he could say that he’d never stared down the barrel of a gun held by a beautiful woman.  He especially wished that the woman holding the gun this time wasn’t someone he’d like to get to know better.

In spite of the burning-cold fury blazing behind those deeply ocean-blue eyes, the barrel of the gun wavered not one micron in her hands.  _This isn’t her first rodeo,_ thought Jack grimly with a resigned groan.  Her rock-steady handling of the deadly weapon reaffirmed that Hal had killed before, and her stance indicated she was more than properly trained to do so.  His curiosity and respect for the diminutive scientist increased, as did his dismay.  A pity that what he would say next undoubtedly would ruin any chance he might have to learn more about her.

He heard the cartilaginous crack of Rose’s jaw as she gaped in astonishment, the sharp intake of breaths as the clone Doctor and Torchwood’s Director gasped.  Staring into the incredible blackness of the gun barrel, he awaited the deafening report he knew would come next with a resignation borne of centuries of experience.

“Tell them!” barked Hal once again, shifting her grip on the stock of the Berretta and tightening it.

“Don’t you dare!” yelped the Doctor in outraged confusion.  “What do you think you’re doing, Hal?”

“Hal?” Rose pled softly, hurt puzzlement written across her face as her eyes were drawn unwillingly to the weapon.

“Put the weapon down _now,_ ” ordered Pete as he regained his voice.  “Right this instant, or you’re irrevocably terminated from Torchwood, Dr. Forbin!”

Hal flinched ever so lightly at Pete’s formal address, sensing that he had no qualms about making good on his statement.  Stubbornly, she held onto the gun and her fierce determination to make the most of insubordination.

Jack dropped his gaze sightlessly to the table.  He slumped and seemed to age visibly as he drew in a deep breath.

“She’s right,” he sighed.  “I and three others made the deal with the 456 in 1965, and it was I who led those 12 orphans into a field to be picked up by the ship.”

A single tear overflowed and made its swift way down the chiselled features of the former Torchwood leader as he shifted his eyes to stare into the Doctor’s face.

“You were right.  A child had to be the focus of the primary transmitter.  The only child available to me was Steven, my grandson.  So, I used him.  It was that, or they would take the children they wanted and destroy the rest of the Earth.”

“N-no,” choked out Rose, her face whitening in sickened disbelief.  

“Where the Hell was he,” gasped Jack, a crack in his voice as his eyes glistened with unshed tears.  “I was there every time he needed me.  Anything he asked of me, I did!  I’ve waited centuries for him.  I proved my loyalty to him, time and time again.  Where the Hell was he when I needed him the most, damn it?”

The Doctor’s lips parted soundlessly as a stricken expression slowly passed across his features.

A choked sob racked through Hal’s body as she shut her eyes against the images burned into her visual cortex.  _An image of a young boy convulsing under a bright light, blood welling from his nose and ears.  The sound of a mother’s anguished cries as she watched her only child dying as he was forged into a disposable weapon of destruction and death.  Frightened, confused tiny faces turned up like guileless sunflowers into a light brighter than the sun; they walked through an empty field as a hauntingly familiar voice urged them on._

“Damn you,” whispered Hal in quiet rage and grief, her finger tightening on the trigger as she stared down the barrel at her target.  “Damn you, Jack Harkness!”

“Yeah,” Jack responded quietly, looking directly into her eyes with an understanding expression.  He nodded slightly, never blinking or averting his gaze.

Hal squeezed the trigger.

“No!” screamed the Doctor, leaping forward to undercut Hal’s outstretched arms.  A sharp, deafening report rang through the enclave.  Hal twisted her torso, drawing the weapon up and over her shoulder as the Doctor careened past her without making contact.  She glanced over her shoulder to note the frozen half-smile on Jack Harkness’ saddened face; a face that should have had a bullet hole in its forehead.

Hal frowned, and then shivered as a strange feeling in the air registered.  The fine hairs on the back of her neck and over her arms stood on end as if lifted by some crackling electromagnetic energy, as if she were standing beneath a gigantic Van de Graaff generator.

Shifting her focus nearer, she suddenly became aware of the bullet she had fired earlier.  Suspended in mid-air, it was slowly rotating at less than a revolution per minute.  A shock wave crinkled the air in front of it, frozen in time as was the bullet.  Eyes rounded in amazement, Hal stepped forward and gently touched the pendent bullet.  She gasped and jumped as it immediately and unexpectedly plinked to the tile floor at her feet.

Scanning the table, Hal noted that Pete and Rose were as frozen in place as Jack.  Rose’s look of utter devastation and bewilderment tugged at her heart.  She glanced up to see Ianto and Gwen running toward the enclave, frozen in mid-stride as they drew their weapons.  None of the lights within the Hub was blinking, giving the impression of a 3D still picture.  

Her gaze slid back to the Doctor, who stood silently a few feet away with his hands in his pockets.  His eyes bored into hers, so black that she could discern no trace of their normal chocolate brown irises.  The cast of his features was stony, unreadable, indescribably ancient and _alien_.  It was as if all humanity had leached from his body and mind, an unfathomable power radiating from the darkness of his unimaginably reflection-less pupils.  Ageless eyes that were focused on her, and she knew they found her lacking.

Hal shrank back and began to shiver in earnest under the cold, hard stare of what she knew to be one of the most powerful beings in existence.  This was a being who could wipe out an entire civilization in an act of will.  It would not simply be destroyed:  Oh, no.  Obliteration was for amateurs.  A Time Lord could literally erase a person, a planet, an entire galaxy from existence; remove them from the very fabric of Time and Space in such a way that they never existed.  

Hal felt a tendril of fear creep up her spine, something she had not experienced in decades.  What stood before her was true power.  She could kill, but she could not undo.  This man could do _both._

A part of her wanted to lash out in anger at being thwarted, at the injustice of being called to task for demanding vindication for the lives of innocent children.  Another part wanted to reach out silently in supplication, to beg for the Time Lord’s understanding and forgiveness, but she dared not at the look of utter condemnation in her dear brother’s eyes.  It was all she could do not to whimper and flatten herself against the floor, like a terrified and repentant cub facing the bared teeth of its elder.

A powerful being in her own right, Hal could easily destroy even a Time Lord.  She would not; she could not kill _this_ one who was bonded to her; a being she saw as family, a clansman, a member of her pack, a man she would willingly protect at the expense of her own life.  She had no defence against the accusatory glare, the silent denunciation she saw behind the alien mask he presented to her now.  

“Don’t look at me like… not like that,” Hal choked out, shutting her eyes and turning her face away. “You’re… you’re starting to frighten me.”

“How does it feel, Hal?” he hissed.   “How does it feel to be on the other side, to feel threatened?  Intimidated, eh?  Is this how you truly want people to see you?  Does that gun make you feel powerful?”

Shoulders slumped, she laid the gun gently on the table and wrapped her arms around herself in misery.  “You don’t understand what I saw.”

“It doesn’t matter what you saw, Hal,” replied the Doctor.  His voice had a resonant power to it that, even without inflection or undue volume, conveyed a stern and commanding character behind it. 

“Let me explain, please,” Hal entreated without meeting his eyes.

“You lost the right to explain anything to me when you squeezed that trigger.” 

Hal’s shoulders jerked, flinching as if struck between them with a whip.  A wave of pain emanated from her, striking against the angry Time Lord’s shielding like dying butterflies.  The coldness of his glare melted a bit, although Hal could not see it from her angle.  He stepped closer to her, almost at her right elbow.

“He wouldn’t have died,” she murmured defensively.  “That’s what you told me.  He can’t die.”

“Oh, he can die,” countered the Doctor.  “You would have killed him.  He just wouldn’t have stayed dead.  But that doesn’t make what you did any better.  When, exactly, did you become a bully, Hal?”

“Bully?” Hal asked, finally glancing up out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes, you… a bully,” he insisted.  “You use guns to intimidate people.  Guns are for cowards, Hal!  Guns allow people to kill at a distance, so that they can rationalise that the gun killed them. You don’t even need a gun to kill.  In fact, you could probably turn the Captain into an immortal vegetable, if you wanted.  Why shoot him with a gun when you know he’ll come right back from death?”

“I want it to hurt,” she answered numbly, looking down at the gun.  “I want it to hurt, over and over again until I run out of bullets.  I want him to feel pain.  I want him to have just a miniscule taste of what those babies are going through.  I want…”

“You want vengeance, Hal,” rasped the Doctor, jabbing his finger at the gun and Jack’s still form.  “Blood, anger and revenge!  Sound vaguely familiar?!?  Is that what you _really_ want to do with your life?”

Hal made no attempt to answer, although she had paled incrementally.  The Doctor continued in a calmer tone, sensing that she was listening.

“You’re stone-cold brilliant, do you know that, Hal?  You could easily be the finest healer in the known universe, if you wanted.  You could be so, so much more… much more than a telepathic thug terrorising people with a weapon.”

Hal leaned into the table and stared down at the floor.  “The other Doctor was wrong to say that about you.  Those words don’t describe you.  Blood, anger, and revenge are words more befitting of me.  But never you.”

“How do you say that, Hal?  You know what I’ve done.”  He pointed to Jack Harkness with long, slim fingers.  “How are my sins the lesser of his?  I sacrificed far more than twelve children, Hal.  I sacrificed them _all._ Hundreds of thousands of children on Gallifrey _alone_ died in a matter of seconds.  I sacrificed entire species, including my own!  Why wouldn’t you hate me as much as you do Jack?”

“He killed his own grandchild,” Hal spat as she pounded the table with the flat of her hands.  “His own flesh and blood!”

“So did I,” answered the Doctor quietly.

“You fought to the last breath, Doctor.  You meant to follow them into death, but you regenerated.  You had no other alternative.”

He shook his head sadly.  “And that’s why I know that hatred, violence and killing are all wrong, Hal.  I know I killed the Daleks again and again, caused inconceivable collateral damage, and somehow they sprang right back.  What did all those people die for, Hal?  The universes go on, but the violence continues.  When does it stop?”

The Doctor stepped even closer and placed a hand gingerly to Hal’s shoulder before giving it a squeeze.  “It was for the best that he put me here, sans TARDIS, part-human.  Whether he actually knew it or not, he left me with the only people who could help heal me and make me whole in the short amount of time I have in this life.  I have only a few years on the slow path to learn, to grow, before I earn a working TARDIS.  I need you, Hal.  And I need Rose.  And who knows, but I may someday need Jack Harkness.  I can’t do this alone.” 

A lone tear splashed upon the table next to Hal’s hand as she struggled to pull herself back together.  She tentatively reached across the table to touch the unnaturally still hand of Rose, suddenly longing for her sympathetic amber gaze.  The Doctor checked her with a quick blocking movement, firmly tugging Hal’s hand away.

“Don’t,” he said with a quick shake of his head.  “You’ll bring her into our time stream.  This time is for us alone.”

“What did you do to them?” Hal asked, waving at the table.  It unnerved her to see Rose frozen in place, unable to share in their conversation.  The oddly silent buzz of their newly formed familial bond seemed distant, almost ticklish, like fingertips hovering over one’s skin.

“Nothing,” responded the Doctor.  “They’re quite normal, really.  We’re the ones out of sync.  I’ve speeded up Time only for the two of us.”

Hal’s wiped at her eyes and focused on the strange time-lock surrounding her.  “You’re regaining your Time Lord abilities, aren’t you?  Did you know you could manipulate Time again?”

“Not until today, no.  Hadn’t tried to do it in ages, to be honest.  Didn’t actually think about it just now.  It was more of a reflex than anything.”  He shrugged as if he had done nothing of note.

Hal stared at the still features of the former Time Agent.  She tried to quell the bitter anger and hatred rising up into her breast as she scanned his face, but her grief was blinding her to every thought but vengeful retribution.  The very thought that one of Elly’s twins could easily have been the only child available to Harkness almost choked her with inarticulate rage.

“Oh,” breathed the Doctor as Hal’s thoughts washed over him.  “That’s why his actions fill you with so much anger,” he added in epiphany.  “Elly’s babies… they would have been born by then, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes,” Hal hissed.  “And I would have killed every stinking one of those bastards before I would have let them touch a single child.  I would have wiped them out in orbit, if I had to.  Never would I have given up a child willingly, Doctor!  Never!”

“We weren’t there to help him, Hal,” he said soothingly, trying to avert another rampage.  “He’s still a human, albeit an immortal human.  There was no one there to help except other humans, it seems.  He made the only choice he had.”

“Where was the other Doctor, then?” Hal asked sharply, pinning the Doctor with a hard stare.  “Why didn’t he help him?”

“I don’t know,” he replied glumly.  “It’s possible it was a fixed point in Time.  He may not have been able to change it.”

“He wouldn’t change it, you mean.”

“No, he literally _can’t_ change events significantly if they’re fixed, Hal.  No matter what he might do, the result would be the same.  Or worse.  Reapers may come to sterilise the wound in Time by destroying almost everything.”

“So, what is the point of having god-like powers if you can’t use them, Doctor?” Hal groaned despondently, clearly frustrated by the unending moral constraints against use of power.  “What good are they if you can’t save twelve innocent children from an eternity in Hell?”

“Oh, Hal… you’re looking at the glass as half-empty,” the Doctor exhorted, showing more subtle signs of humanity since he froze Time around them.  “Captain Jack lost twelve children, including his own grandson, but he saved all the rest.”  

Grasping Hal by the upper arms, the Doctor turned her to face him squarely, although she cast her eyes to the floor once again in avoidance.  “Hal, he saved Elly’s children, you know.  He saved your… nieces… or nephews?

“A niece and a nephew,” sighed Hal morosely, reminded of how she’d missed their births.  “We had only made a mental connection and established their genders a few days before… before I came here.”

“Then think about that, Hal.  Think about how Jack chose to save all the other children, Elly’s included, before you condemn Jack for what he did.”

The fire in Hal’s eyes rekindled as she forced herself to look up into the Doctor’s eyes.  

“I can’t exonerate him because the Spectre of Death passed over my own family.  I don’t know if I ever can,” she said firmly, but with an equal measure of trepidation.  If the Doctor expected her to absolve Jack Harkness of his sins, he was asking the wrong person.  

With a quivery sigh, Hal broke as a few silent tears ran unrestrained down her face.  

“He deliberately selected twelve lonely orphans because he didn’t think anyone would miss them.  Twelve children who had already suffered more than any child should.  They had no one to love them, to care for them.  There was no one there to protect them!  By his criteria, I, as a child, would have been an ideal target for tossing away to the 456.  How can I forgive him that, Doctor?  What right did he have to choose those children?”

Anguish flashed across the Doctor’s face as he pulled Hal into an embrace.  He had felt Hal’s rage as she pulled her weapon, but he’d had no time to discern the real reason why she’d directed her anger so violently against the Captain.  Her strong identification and empathy with the children, and their tacit connection to her family, had pushed her over the edge.  Grief had driven her to the point of dismissing all thought of consequences. 

He had managed to prevent Jack’s imminent death, at least for the moment, but what now?  How could he cajole Pete into not firing Hal; mediate what was sure to be an emotional schism between Rose and Hal; send Pete, Hal and Jack back to London, and somehow miraculously salvage the rest of his wedding day?

Well, he _was_ the Doctor… the _only_ Doctor in Pete’s World.  _And_ he had just commanded Time instinctively, with nary a thought!  

He wasn’t half a Time Lord, after all, he mused in wonder.  He was proper Time Lord, albeit a Time Lord who couldn’t regenerate.  He could make Time do his bidding, and his power could be almost immeasurable with a TARDIS.  A smattering of human DNA in his genome was for the better, in spite of what the old guard Time Lords believed.

His senses had regained their strength as they realigned themselves to the new universe.  He was now fully aware of Time in Pete’s World and could sense the passage of a mere nanosecond, although he appeared to have lost his sense of Time in Prime.  His sense of taste was as keen, and finicky, as it had ever been in the other world.  He could smell Ianto’s aftershave from one hundred feet away and could practically taste its chemical composition.  His TARDIS coral was growing and thriving; its song swelling as its sentience flared to life and as their connection grew deeper. He had successfully bonded with his chosen mate and been claimed, something that even the Time Lord in Prime hadn’t managed to achieve in all his lifetimes.

His next few tasks should be easy-peasy, compared to what he’d achieved in only a few short months.

“I’m so sorry, Hal,” he whispered in her ear.  “I’m so, so sorry.  I didn’t think about how all of this would impact you.”  He pulled back very slightly and brushed some of her wispy blonde tresses aside before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“I forget sometimes that you never had a normal childhood,” the Doctor sighed.  “The Sontarans were wrong to use you as a weapon, and they paid dearly for that.  You were created to bring forth life, not take it, Hal.  Remember that.”

Hal looked up slowly with a questioning high eyebrow and a slightly withering expression on her face.

“I know, I know,” he started to protest, shaking his head in a comically circular motion.  “That was sort of a blatant sexist comment on its face, but I didn’t quite mean it that way.  Actually, I meant that I really _, really_ didn’t mean it that way, and I’m never gonna say it again, although the rationale behind my thoughtless comment stands.”

“Not helpin’, Doctor,” Hal said with a faint twitch at the corner of her lip, almost giving her away.

“Just promise me you’ll give up guns as your default means of expressing yourself, alright?  It’s going to take all the skills of my considerably superior Time Lord brain to keep Pete and Torchwood from locking you into the dungeon downstairs, and even more to convince Pete not to fire you.”

Hal glanced down at the floor and sighed, reluctant to give in.

“Promise!” insisted the Doctor, appearing a bit on edge.  “You’re plenty scary without a gun, as it is.”

Frowning, her eyes engaged his again, the faintest spark of defiance still smouldering below the surface.  “Well, I don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted.  Your _faux pas_ rate is reaching stratospheric new levels.”

“I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, if you haven’t noticed,” ground out the exasperated Doctor, strain evident in his voice.  “Manipulating Time, and all that, you know; just a bit out of practice.  You should try it sometime.”

“I promise _to try_ to learn to live without weapons,” Hal stated very precisely, ignoring the jab.  “I can’t promise I’ll never pick one up again, and I can promise you that I’ll use one, if necessary, to protect myself or others.  But I will do everything possible to keep my promise and not use them as a means of retribution.”

“Fair enough,” the Doctor nodded.

“How long can you keep this up?” she asked, concerned now over the Doctor’s increasing pallor.

“Long enough for you to get out of the building and head home before Pete finds out,” he answered. Hal noted a thin sheet of perspiration forming across his forehead and upper lip.  “Do you have money to get home?”

“Yeah, I have plastic, too.  Not a problem.”

“Leave now, and let me know when you’ve cleared the building,” he instructed her.  “I’ll release you into normal time then.  Take the first flight or train back home while I try to fix the mess here.  I’ll call you tomorrow evening.  And for Rassilon’s sake, please try to stay out of trouble until you hear from us!”

“You and Rose are staying here tonight, aren’t you?” asked Hal, a complex array of emotions flitting across her face.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a determined set of his jaw.  “And I doubt we’ll be up very early, so don’t expect to hear from us before tea time.”

“Good show,” breathed Hal before hurrying to the Hub’s centre.  “I’ll let you know as soon as I reach the edge of the Plass.” 

Nodding crisply to her, he watched as she swiftly made her way to the cog exit.  As she disappeared from view, the Doctor let out an exasperated puff of air, glancing about the stiffened faces sitting around the table.  Already his concentration was defocusing from Time; shifting to formulate his explanation to the Hub occupants.  This wouldn’t be his smoothest escape, by any measure.

“I am clear,” Hal’s voice echoed in his head.  “Godspeed, and please tell Rose I am truly sorry for my behaviour with Jack.  Running silent now, and until we meet again.”

He felt Hal’s mind withdraw quickly as she erected strong defensive shields.  The suddenness of the partial block brought on a twinge of pain across his temples.  Along with the pain, a caul of darkness seemed to eclipse him as a strange emptiness in his mind mocked him and left him bereft.

In reality, his mind was not as empty as it had been less than half a year ago.  Before the meta-crisis, when he was the Doctor in Prime, he had learned to live in a profound silence thanks to the War.  It had driven him quite spare on more than a few occasions.  Now, he had three tiny sparks that burned and shined like supernovae in the dark recesses of his mind.  

He had grown quite dependant on those new connections, and any distance or interference with the vital mental chords almost immediately threw him into a panic.  His bond with Hal steadied him while Rose was caught in the other time stream.  But with both of them distanced from him as Hal throttled down their psychic connection, the cloying fear of isolation almost overwhelmed him.  Time Lords, as coldly calculating and ruthless as they could be, were in truth an imminently social species.

Even as terror clawed at the edges of his mind, he knew the nexus he shared with his companions would flare once again into a brightly incandescent network within the next twenty-four hours, warming and thawing his soul with love and steadfast support.  He need only bring himself back into the Hub’s normal time stream to feel the tender brush of his beloved’s mind.

Or perhaps, not so tender at first.  He would have to talk fast, he realised.  Thank goodness, he had quite the gob on him…

Pressing his thin fingertips firmly into his temples to soothe the headache rapidly building between them, he moved himself and Hal smoothly back into synchronicity with the Torchwood group.  With a weary sigh, he dropped his hands to his side as an alarmed Rose and Pete jumped to their feet.

Rose threw herself into an astonished Jack’s lap, her back to the startled Time Agent in a protective position as she grimly faced the spot she’d last seen Hal.  Wide-eyed, Jack stared over Rose’s head at the loaded Beretta laid on the table.  Rose’s head jerked rapidly about in bird-like moves as she quickly scanned the room.  Becoming more disturbed and confused as it became clear that Hal was no longer in the enclave, her bewildered eyes finally rested on the Doctor’s solemn brown orbs.

“What the hell just happened, Doctor?” demanded Pete, eyebrows knitted.  “Where’s Hal?  She was right in front of me.  I saw her pull the trigger, and in less than a blink she was gone!”

Shoving his hands into his pockets and nodding toward Jack, the Doctor stepped into the space formerly occupied by Hal.

“Well, it seems the good Captain is fine, so she obviously didn’t shoot him,” he remarked casually.

“How could she miss at that range?” snapped Pete.  The angry redness in his face was starting to exceed that of his rapidly thinning hair.  He gave a dismissive shake of his head to Gwen and Ianto as they ran in, weapons drawn, indicating they should stand down.

“But… but I heard the gun go off,” stammered Rose.  “I can still smell gunpowder, so she must have fired the weapon.”  She reached across the table to retrieve the Beretta, sliding the safety into place before taking a careful whiff of the barrel.  Her nose crinkled at the acrid metallic stench before she set it back down.

“I stopped it,” stated the Doctor flatly as all eyes turned to him.  It appeared that everyone naturally assumed he would have an explanation.

“We heard a shot,” Gwen said, “but where did the bullet go?”

Bending over, the Doctor retrieved the lead projectile from the floor and presented it to everyone before laying it next to the Berretta.  

“She aimed at the bloody floor?” Gwen asked, incredulous.  “It could of ricocheted almost anywhere?”

“No.  No, she didn’t,” remarked Rose, picking up the bullet and examining it.  “Look at it.  It’s not flattened, so it never struck anything.”  Holding it up to the lights, she showed it to Gwen who could see that the head of the bullet had been distorted as it travelled through the bore of the gun, but it hadn’t flattened on impact like a normally fired bullet.  It appeared very similar to that of bullet fired into water during a ballistics test.

“I don’t get it,” grunted Pete.  “Did she, or did she not, fire the gun at Harkness?”

“Uhm, she did,” said the Doctor hesitantly.  “But I stopped the bullet, Pete.  It never reached him.”

Pete stared at the Doctor as if he’d dribbled down his shirt.  “You did what?” he asked in a measured voice.

“Look, Pete… I can explain it all.  Later, that is,” stammered the Doctor.  “Please, don’t do anything rash until I’ve had a chance to talk to Hal.”

“Rash?” snarled Pete.  “Rash?  There’s nothing rash about how I’m immediately terminating her employment.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” begged the Doctor, waving his hands desperately in front of Pete.  “Please, Pete.  You told us we could have a two days holiday.  Give us those two days before you do anything, please.  I promise you that you’ll have a suitable explanation for her behaviour, and if you still want to terminate her, I’ll not say a word.  Just give us the two days to sort things out, alright?”

He nodded toward Jack.  “Let Jack go back to London with you while Rose and I sort things out here.  I’m convinced he is no threat to Pete’s World, and his knowledge of the 456 may actually be crucial if they ever appear here.  He had to make some difficult choices in Prime, but we were here and unable to assist him.  That’s not the case now.”

Pete glared at the Doctor for several beats, a look crossing his face that said he was already regretting his decision.

“In two days’ time there will be a hearing on this matter, Doctor,” Pete stated unequivocally.  “You and Hal will be there, is that understood?”

The Doctor nodded sharply.  “Thank you, Pete.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Pete warned him.

“I won’t, I promise you,” he said in earnest.  He turned to Jack and nodded again. 

“We’ll see you in a couple of days, Jack.  I’m sorry the other Doctor wasn’t there to help you.  I can’t speak for him, but I can speak for myself.  I’ll be there for you in your time of need, for what it’s worth.”

The Doctor walked swiftly to the door and stopped to hold his hand out to Rose. 

“Let’s go sort this out, Rose,” he said softly.

Rose turned to give Jack a hug and a kiss on the cheek before joining the Doctor.  Taking his hand, she walked with him to the lift and rode it up to the Plass, gripping his hand so tightly that his fingertips turned white.  By the time they reached street level, he had essentially downloaded the entire event in a rapid-fire telepathic exchange that left bursts of lights behind her retinas.

“Oh, my god…” Rose whispered, eyes wide as she regarded her new husband with astonishment.  “You can control Time?”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.

“Could come in handy,” she said with tongue planted firmly in cheek.

“You’ve no idea,” he responded cheekily.

Lacing his fingers firmly through Rose’s, he tensed with a wicked smile.

“Rose Tyler… RUN!” he commanded.

Giggling, they ran down the Plass at break-neck speed before disappearing into the side streets on the way to their greatest adventure of all.


	30. A Glimpse of Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose and TenII make their escape through Cardiff. They stop in an alleyway, where a little UST occurs (nothing explicit).

 

They ran through the streets and alleyways of Cardiff, hand in hand, barely paying note to the frequent horn blast of an angry car or lorry driver as they darted by.  Rose had no idea where they were going.  Still numbed by recent events in the underground Torchwood Hub, her only thought was to keep her feet moving and maintain pace with the wildly grinning madman grasping her hand.  After what seemed like miles leaping over kerbs and posh little lapdogs, she started laughing as a feeling of elation and familiarity washed through her. 

Oh, how she had missed this!  All those years in Torchwood as an operative, she had tried to replicate this heart-pounding thrill.  She came close on a few occasions, but nothing matched her memories of dashing through streets, corridors and stairways with the Doctor.  Nothing came quite close enough to evoke that rubbery ball of terror, joy and quivery quasi-sexual arousal forming low in the belly as they ran.  She felt it now; a sensation not unlike that first plunge at the beginning of a rollercoaster ride where her core would convulse and pulsate, insistent on clutching that which was not there.  

Her laughter turned into hysterical squeals that robbed her lungs of necessary oxygen so that she slowed as the Doctor squeezed her hand more tightly.  He looked back, determined not to lose her hand, a huge grin on his face as he guided her into an alleyway between two tall flat buildings.  They threw themselves against the coolness of the dark brick wall, plastering their backs against it for support as they alternated between guffaws and gasps for breath.

They stared into each other’s eyes, each savouring a fond memory as their breathing slowed.  Rose’s gaze rose up to the Doctor’s mane of dark hair, as wild as she had ever seen it, before she pushed herself off the wall and moved to lean intimately against him, hands clutching his jumper to avoid abrading her knuckles against the brick.  He wrapped his arms around her into a tight embrace, never breaking his gaze from her warm whiskey brown eyes.

Rose finally broke the silence.  “What we runnin’ away from?” she whispered breathlessly. She pressed her still slowly heaving chest closer as her hips pressed up into his.  The Doctor’s breath suddenly quickened to its previous rate, his lips falling slightly apart while his eyes searched hers as if looking for something tangible.  The smile faded from his face as an indecipherable look took its place.

“Wrong preposition,” he said in a throaty burr.  “ _For, Rose_ … we’re running _for_ something.” 

Rose’s tongue made a scant appearance between her teeth as she assumed a kittenish cock of her head.  “For our lives?” she drawled girlishly, gently grinding her hips closer, taking note of the building tension in the Doctor’s form.  

His countenance seemed to harden as he sucked in a breath, pupils glittering with less than innocent intent as he raised his chin.  He looked down on Rose like an owl contemplating a mouse scampering unsuspectingly about the tree litter below.  A very delicious mouse.

“Exactly,” he answered in a low tone that made her shiver.  

She licked her lips in anticipation, staring fixedly at the soft, moist fullness of the Doctor’s bottom lip.  The urge to suck gently on it was calling to her, as it had been since they were on the Torchwood jet earlier.

“Would you like to kiss me now?” she asked in a low, sultry voice, growing bolder by his seeming reluctance in a public alley.  Her pupils were growing larger as she writhed coquettishly against him.

The Doctor hissed as she slid against the placket of his jeans, rubbing deliciously against already inflamed body parts; body parts that had long since usurped self-control.

“Wrong verb, that,” he groaned, grappling desperately with the last shreds of his mental training to prevent himself from taking her hard against the cold brick behind him.  Or the wooden crates to their left.  Actually, his multi-threaded thought processes were quite successful at inventing numerous unsupported positions that would do in a pinch.

“Oh, Doctor,” Rose whimpered breathlessly as she felt the physical evidence of his ardour, as well as the fiery maelstrom in his mind.  “What verb could that be?  We’re technically already married, so all verbs are possible, yeah?”

He licked his lips, placing his hands on her hips to still her.

“There’s one last thing… one last ritual,” he said quietly.  “Time Lords abjured it.  Practically made any Time Lords who practiced it social pariahs. Once Rassilon decreed the use of looms, it was considered obsolete, archaic and… and animalistic.  Regular Gallifreyans hid it from Time Lords, but amongst their own it was practiced joyously.  It was socially acknowledged in every way as part of the culture.”

Rose froze as she gave him her full attention.  “You’re talkin’ about sex, aren’t you?”

“Oh, Rose… it’s so, so much more than that!” he protested.  “It’s much more than linking bodies.  It’s more than linking minds.  It’s the very linking of souls.  Or so I’ve been told by Gallifreyans.  And I’ve never dared to ever hope I could have that, until now.”

“You’ve never had it with anyone before, then?  This… uhm… Gallifreyan sex voodoo?” she asked, seriously trying to understand the concept.

“No, oh never,” he said with a shake of his head.  “It’s not just any old ritual.  It’s supposed to happen but once in a life time… not regenerations, Rose.  For all of our lives.  Never knew anyone I wanted to have it with, until I met you.  Over 900 years and roaming the universe for over 700, and I never felt the need to meld totally with any other creature until little Rose Marion Tyler, Bad Wolf, came along.  You are my soul mate.”

She shook her head, astonished at what the Doctor was offering her.  After giving her his name and merging minds with her telepathically, she was struggling to understand a deeper level of intimacy beyond what they had.  Consummation of their marriage just seemed the logical next step, but not the end game.

“How do you know this, Doctor?  That I’m the One?”

“Don’t you feel it, Rose?” he pled.  “Don’t you feel something a bit beyond the usual relationship rubbish that normal humans have?  What made you launch yourself, again and again through the Void to get back to me?  Was that _just_ love?  Your ordinary, mundane kind of existence with marriage, mortgages, white picket fences and baby trams?  Usually followed by infidelity and divorce?”

A spark of recognition kindled in her eyes as she remembered her fierce determination to get back to the Doctor.  She would die rather than give up, and it never occurred to her that her behaviour was abnormal, even as she lay in hospital healing from grievous wounds.

“I didn’t care about any of that,” she whispered, eyes unseeing as she thought back to those nightmarish times.  “I… I didn’t exist without you.  I didn’t really care ‘bout houses, or babies, or any of that.  Didn’t even care if you never kissed me, or finally told me that you loved me, as long as you would let me be with you… in the TARDIS.  Jus’ you an’ me.  Until I grew old an’ died.  That’s what I wanted mor’n anythin’, Doctor.”

He smiled and blinked away tears threatening to blur his vision of the blonde woman in his arms.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Rose.  That’s no ordinary love.  That’s what I want with you.  We can have it all, me and you.  But if something takes everything away, it’s still us.  We’ll still be ok without all the badges of marriage and social conventions.”  

Rose blinked away her own tears as she nodded in agreement, sniffling slightly.  “I don’t even need sex, though, Doctor.  Never did much for me, anyway.  Not with Jimmy Stone, not even with Mickey, ‘though he really tried.”

The Doctor looked completely horrified.

“What?!?  They didn’t?  They jus’… You never even…?” He sputtered to a stop, the Oncoming Storm building quickly to a lashing peak.

“’S ok, Doctor, really.  My girlfriend, Shareen, she said that most women… human woman, anyway… don’t usually get to… uhm… You know,” she dropped to a whisper, face suddenly blazing in embarrassment.

“She’s wrong,” he spat out, eyes blazing.

“But ’s ok, Doctor, really,” she insisted quietly, afraid she’d stoke the Doctor’s ire.  “I told ya, I don’t really need it.  So once we…”

“Oh, I am _so_ going to change your mind about that, Rose!” he growled.  “And it’s too bad your friend Shareen isn’t in this universe so you can tell her _exactly_ how wrong she is!”

“Ooookay,” Rose said meekly.

“And once the TARDIS is able to travel into Prime, I will make bloody sure we pay her a visit,” he huffed.  And pay Jimmy Stone and Mickey Smith a visit, he thought to himself but decided to keep under his hat.  The knowledge that the two men hadn’t been able to satisfy his Rose both infuriated him and placated his jealous streak, but the latter wouldn’t save the two insensitive gits from his wrath.

“It’s time… Rose Tyler.  It’s time we truly meld more than just our minds and hearts together.  It’s time we merge our lives together, as well.  Permanently.  In every way.  I want to wake up next to you in the morning, and again every morning for the rest of our lives.”

“What?  Startin’ tonight?” Rose asked, eyes rounded in mild surprise.  “Somewhere here in Cardiff?  Or you gonna move in with me at my flat back in London?”   

“Yes, and yes,” he confirmed with a vigorous shake of his head.  “Is that OK?  Conditions will never be perfect for the two of us, you know.  We stand at the causal nexus of too many critical points in Time for that.  We’re the Doctor and Rose, Stuff of Legends.  Mundane lives are for others.  Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she nodded slowly, cheeks growing rounder along with a wide smile.  She was hesitant, terrified, exhilarated, impatient and overjoyed at the same time.  Her fondest dream was coming true, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. 

Rose stared deeply into the Doctor’s dark eyes, suddenly trembling as if standing on the precipice of a great chasm.  She felt herself falling in as her mind melted into his, and suddenly she saw a glimpse into the inner workings of a Time Lord brain.  

Timelines, like living ribbons of colourful light, stretched before her…or was it before him?  Or both of them?  

She felt his presence so near, as if he was at her side watching with her, but she couldn’t see him.  Was she seeing images second-hand, projected into her mind?  Or was she seeing timelines herself, though her own eyes?  

She wasn’t exactly sure, but the breathless images before her glittered and moved like nothing she had ever witnessed before, capturing her rapt attention as she shifted focus.  As she followed some of them with her eyes, it was as if she were floating alongside them, taking them in with her other senses.  With some she detected a sour or savoury flavour; a hard, soft, or frayed texture.  It was as if she had tasted and touched them, but she had no visible hands or tongue with which to engage them. 

She forced herself to focus on one particular ribbon of light in an iridescent golden hue; its hard sharp lines making it appear more clearly delineated than the others.  Its edges reminded her of the taste of a glass shard, dangerous and tempting, although she couldn’t exactly remember licking glass shards before.  But had she eaten glass shards, she was reasonably sure they would have _tasted_ like the razor-sharp edges looked, if one could imagine the taste of a _shape or texture_.

She nudged it with her mind, like tentatively sliding a thumb down a wickedly thin edge to test it.  An unpleasant, almost painful sensation shot through her as she let out a tiny gasp of surprise.  Almost immediately, a living warmth enveloped and reassured her like a loving parent drawing a child into his or her arms protectively.  

_A fixed point._ _You cannot change it,_ she heard the unseen Doctor whisper into her mind as he soothed the unpleasant feeling away.

Like a child with a short attention span, she shifted her focus again and followed an intricately intertwined ribbon of light of a vibrant blue and pink.  It stretched out before her, dancing and twisting into the distance; separating at intervals just enough to see a space between them before winding back so tightly that the colours blended.  Every so often, a branch would split off from the conjoined timelines; a blue or pinkish ribbon jutting out and heading off on its own.  A feeling of sadness washed through her as she contemplated these junctures, although she wasn’t sure why.  She could guess the nature of those spikey deviations from the twisted thread, though. 

Try as she might, she could not keep this timeline or the occasional nexus with branches within her focus.  Like an object behind a perception filter, the ribbon of light would elude close scrutiny each time she drew near.  Childish frustration shot through her as she concentrated for one last momentous lunge, drawing a chuckle of amusement from her invisible partner.  

Eyes slowly fluttering open, Rose found herself looking into warm, loving brown irises bordered by crinkly crow’s-feet.   A light-hearted hum vibrated through the Doctor’s ribcage as he gently laughed at her, tickling Rose’s insides in a not unpleasant way.

“What’s so funny,” she pouted.

“Oh, nothing,” he chuckled again with a broad smile.  

“No, seriously,” insisted Rose.  “Was that you, or was that me?  Those were timelines, yeah?”

Nodding slowly, he lowered his forehead to press against Rose’s.  His lips brushed feather-light against hers.

“Oh, yes,” he whispered.  “Yes, they were timelines.  And you’re amazing, you know that?”  He pressed his lips against hers in an almost chaste kiss, but one that easily conveyed his unabashed adoration of her.

Rose smiled back with a blush, but was determined not to be so easily distracted.  “So, it wasn’t just you, then?  I was seein’ timelines?”

“That was all you, Rose Tyler.  Well, I might have had something to do with the visualisation through the bond, but it was mostly under your own power.”

“So, that’s why you were laughin’ at me, then?” she asked.  “‘Cause I could see timelines an’ stuff?  Me?  A silly ape?”

“No,” he responded with a quick shake of his head, “That’s not why.  It’s because you were engaging in the Time Lord equivalent of chasing your own tail, Rose.  No one can see their own timeline clearly.  We usually learn not to do that around the age of eight, sometime after exposure to the Untempered Schism.”

He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes.  “And stop calling yourself that,” he reminded her gently.  “Dumbest thing I’ve ever said.”

“Along with tellin’ me I’m chasin’ my tail?” she grinned fondly at him.

“Well, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.

“But how?  How can I see timelines, Doctor?” she asked, brow crinkling finely in confusion.  “I thought only Time Lords could do that.  I’m jus’ a human.”

“You’re not _just_ anything, Rose.”  He gazed at her in earnest, as if trying to see something deep within.

“You’re a Time Lord’s wife, and you’re the Bad Wolf,” he said finally as a slightly more serious expression passed over his face.  “I think Hal is right; Bad Wolf wasn’t completely removed when I kissed you.  I’m beginning to believe that Bad Wolf was in you all along, was activated by the Vortex energy, and I simply removed the power of the Vortex from you.  Not so sure I got all of that, either.”

An impish twinkle appeared in Rose’s eye as she licked her lips.  “Ain’t sure ya can _ever_ get it all, Doctor.”

“Oh, but I can _try_ , Rose.  I can most certainly try,” he stated earnestly, glancing down her body with a hungry look.

“So, where are we goin’ for the night, Doctor?”

“Ah, yes,” he said, rousing himself from his anything but innocent thoughts.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  

“There’s used to be a little bed and breakfast not too terribly far from here.  Quite quaint, in a Victorian sort of way.  Actually, haven’t been there but once since the Victorian era, so I hope it’s still there.  Maybe a mile or so down the road?”

Rose stepped back and glanced about searching for a sign.  “Where are we, anyway?”

“In a dark alleyway, little girl,” he playfully growled with a lascivious flash of his eyebrows.

“I know that!” she yelped, swatting him on the arm with a giggle.  “I mean, where are we in Cardiff?  Are we close t’ where we met Charles Dickens?”

“No, quite a bit of a hike to there.”  

He smiled, noting that Rose had mentally bridged the gap not only between himself and the Doctor in Prime, but between himself and his ninth incarnation.  Emotion choked him temporarily at this change of fortune after so many months of trials in his relationship with Rose.  He felt a mist gathering in his eyes as he took a deep breath.

“You ok?” Rose asked with some concern in her eyes.  She had felt the swell of emotion, but the well of tears in the Doctor’s eyes alarmed her.  He hadn’t answered her question, and seldom was he at a loss for words.

He nodded and swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing above his knotted tie.  

“That was our first real date, Rose,” he managed to choke out.  “That dress you were wearing, off the shoulders…You were so beautiful.”

Rose bit her tongue as she caught herself about to say … ‘ _for a human_.’  He was opening up in a way he never used to, his heart almost literally on his sleeve.  She wouldn’t rob either of them of this moment with a snipe, as much as the comment from his gruff ninth form had stung her over the years.  She reached up slowly and tenderly stroked his gorgeously freckled cheek with a thumb.

Eyes shining with emotion, he cupped her hand against his face and turned his head to press a kiss into her palm.  Sliding an arm around her waist, the Doctor lead her away from the wall and back toward the street.  Words seemed so inadequate for them both that they remained silent until stepping out to the kerb.

“Doctor,” asked Rose finally, “do ya think there might be a chippie or somethin’ close by?  I’m actually gettin’ a bit peckish, seein’ it’s after lunch time and all.”

“Chippie?” he answered absently, not quite having food on his mind at the moment.  He squinted about in the brightness of the street looking for a street sign.

“Yeah, lunch, Doctor,” she teased with a quick display of tongue.  “I’m gonna need some energy or somethin’, if you want to have your way with me on our weddin’ night.  ‘Course, you bein’ a man of advanced years an’ all, I guess I might get by without for an hour, I suppose.”

“Hour?!?” he sniffed, clearly scandalised.  “Advanced years?  I’ll show you advanced years, Rose Marion Tyler!  _This_ body is only a little over four months old and _full_ of hybrid vigour, I’ll have you know.  But this _brain_ , mind you, this brilliantly-trained Time Lord _brain_ is filled with over 900 years of knowledge in the art of Love.  Learned a few tricks from Giacomo Girolamo Casanova himself, as a matter of fact.”

“Casanova?” Rose asked with a dubious grimace.  “Seriously?”

Dragging Rose up tightly against his body, he gave her a dark and heated look with full, irresistibly pouty lips parted.  “Oh yes.  And tonight I am _seriously_ going to spoil you for any other man.  Once you’ve had the Last of the Time Lords, you’ll never go back.”

Rose shook and convulsed in the Doctor’s arms with eyes wide and rounded.  Leaning back and trying valiantly not to laugh, she eventually started sputtering when she could hold her breath no longer.  

“I’m sorry,” she squealed hysterically at the Doctor’s crestfallen countenance.  “I’m so, so sorry!”  She grasped him about the waist as he dropped his arms in dismay, doubling over in tearful laughter as she prevented his retreat.  “Please, let me explain!” she gasped.

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he stared down at the walkway with a clear pout of hurt and wounded masculine pride.  He was also uncharacteristically quiet as Rose straightened to take him by the elbows and peer into his face as he averted his gaze.

“Doctor, I’m so sorry I laughed, really I am,” she said contritely as she gradually composed herself.  “It’s not that I doubt ya at all.  It’ll be as wonderful as we hope, I know.  It was… jus’… well, it was the delivery, I suppose.”

“Yeah, well…” he groused, “if I can’t deliver now, who’s to say I’ll be able to deliver later?  Obviously, my gob must not be as good for anything as I once thought!”

“Doctor, no!” Rose said, giving him a shake.  “That’s not what I meant.  You must know that, yeah?  Look at me!”

Reluctantly, he drew his eyes up to her face as Rose lifted his chin.  The waves of remorse emanating from her and look of regretful devastation stung him.  Without warning, she dropped all of her shields so that every thought brushed against him like autumn leaves in a whirlwind.

“I love you, Doctor,” she stated plainly without taking her eyes from his.  “I didn’t mean to hurt ya jus’ now, and I never want to hurt ya again, although I know I probably will at some point.  I’m not makin’ fun of ya.  I’d never do that.  It’s jus’ that… well… sometimes you’re jus’ so _alien_.  An’ it ain’t like I don’t like that about ya, you know!  It’s one of the things I love the most about ya.”

He shrugged.  “Not like there’s much _alien_ about me anymore.  Pretty much human in this body.  One heart, one set of lungs, warmer body temperature, and I have to sleep more.  Might not do any better than certain human males of past acquaintance.  The only thing still alien is my mind.”

“The mos’ important thing, yeah?  An’ the rest, that means maybe, someday, we might even be able to have babies?  Right?  If my body isn’t too beat up, I hope.  If you want my babies, that is.”  She trailed off into a softer voice and dropped her gaze.

The Doctor placed his fingers under her chin and tugged until she met his eyes again.  The shear joyful emotion that was pouring from him almost overwhelmed Rose.

“Oh, Rose Tyler… I would gladly have Time Tots with you until your womb fell out.”

Rose’s eyes widened again in astonishment.

“Uhm, Doctor,” she ventured gingerly.  “That’s kinda what I was talkin’ ‘bout?  The alien way of phrasin’ things?”

“Oh,” he started with a grimace.  “I did it again, didn’t I?  Oh, well… I didn’t mean that _literally_ , of course.  Not really.  And I can see that it sounded kind of gross, on its face.  To be fair, Giacomo _did_ coach me a couple of… ok, more than a _few_ times on things not to say to women, including using anatomical terms for their…”

A small manicured hand clapped over his mouth as Rose shushed him.  “Lunch,” she reminded him.  He nodded his understanding as he smiled beneath her fingers.  He kissed them as she withdrew.  Squinting once again as he scanned the signage about the street, he sucked in a sharp breath in surprise.

_“No!”_ he whispered, eyes fixed on a street lamp a block away.

“What?” Rose asked, assuming a defensive posture.  She was ready to run at any second.

“I don’t believe it,” he said.  “We’re on Silurian Place?  There’s a street in Cardiff named after the Silurians?”

Rose relaxed a little, sensing that the Doctor’s surprise didn’t constitute a real danger.  “What’s a Silurian?”

“Silurians?  Oh, Silurians are a race of reptilian humanoids that predate humans on Earth.  But nah, that can’t be that a street was named after them.  Must be after the Silurian geological period, but that’s kind of weird that you’d name a street after a geological era.  You wouldn’t normally name one after the Ordovician period, for instance.  No one would be able to spell it, for one.  221B Ordovician Place… brilliant address, but not very practical.”

“Doctor?”

“I wonder if the Silurians are waking up now?  Shouldn’t come out of hibernation until 2084 or so...” he continued, scratching his chin in recollection.  “But that was in Prime.  Not sure if they’re the same here.”

“Doctor?”

“Eh?” he asked distractedly.

“Are we about to get invaded by giant lizard people right now?”

“I don’t think so, Rose.  Not at this very moment, I suspect.”  He looked honestly puzzled by her question.  “And they’re called Silurians, not giant lizard people. Not very PC, that. Might take offence, I imagine.”

“Doctor… two words:  Fish and chips,” Rose insisted in a no nonsense tone.  “Right now, if they was to invade, I’d pro’bly eat a few of ‘em with some vinegar and salt.”

“That’s three words, actually,” he began before noticing the storm brewing behind his new wife’s brown eyes.  “Oh yes… sustenance for my famished, darling life mate, so that we can enjoy hours of postnuptial pleasures into the wee hours of the morn,” he heralded to several passer-by’s.  

The blushing bride took his offered hand as he lead them in a brisk walk North, away from the Bay and Torchwood Three.


	31. Disappearing Skin Tight Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II and Rose escape to a B&B for some alone time, at last. Edited version with lots of playful innuendo, but nothing explicit.

 

It was the poshest place he’d ever taken Rose for a simple basket of fish and chips.   Rose didn’t seem to mind that the basket was actually a plain white Provençal plate, or that the fried fish only appeared on the menu once the Doctor had a little discussion with the manager.  Only the conspicuous flashing of psychic paper had gotten them into the establishment during prime hours.  Thankfully, celebrities such as they were well-known for eclectic dress in tatty denims, so no one gave them much mind.

As much as he wanted to run straight to the B&B as fast as their legs would move, he had to admit the little moans and trills of pleasure emitting from Rose’s throat made the stop well worth the time.  After frenetically devouring two pieces of fish and half a plate of chips in record time, Rose settled down to a more leisurely pace.  At present she was busy languorously licking salt crystals from her chip, looking comically cross-eyed down her pert nose at the starchy delight.

At some point in her potatoey reverie Rose became aware that her companion had lapsed into an uncanny silence.  Well, it wasn’t exactly _silence_ because she could hear the rasp of uneven breath coming from the other side of the table.  

Rose glanced up, chip still hanging indelicately from her mouth, to find the Doctor with head propped onto a hand.  He stared owlishly through his spectacles at her puffy, salty bee-stung lips.  Eyes glazed and slightly agape, he was the very picture of mindless adolescent mooning.

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Rose kept a neutral expression as she slowly pushed the rest of the chip into pouty pink lips, finishing with a vacuous, intentional slurp as she removed her finger.  She reached for another chip, watching as the Doctor’s eyes tracked her movements.  The corner of her mouth betrayed her as it twitched, but she parted her lips unnecessarily wide to take in the fried treat, curling her tongue around it as she drew out it a bit.  Clamping her pursed lips around the lucky potato sliver, she moaned softly.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” groaned the Doctor in a low voice.  In the dim light of the restaurant, his pupils seemed inhumanly large and imposing as he nervously raked her with smouldering glances.

“Hmmm?” asked Rose innocently, sticking her agile pink tongue out to gently lick the flat side of her chip.  “Wotcha mean?”  Rose wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought she might have heard a whimper escape the Doctor.

“Yup, you’re gonna kill me,” he complained melodramatically before sitting upright.  “Gonna make me sit here in the middle of a very, _very_ posh pub and… and… just spectacularly spontaneously combust watching you eat chips!  The paparazzi will have a field day.  They’re sittin’ right over there, you know.  Waitin’ for Vitex heiress Rose Tyler’s mystery man to burst into flames and burn the whole establishment down.” 

Rose grinned cheekily, tongue poking saucily between her teeth.  “You callin’ me a tease?”

“You’ve ever been the tease,” he answered in all seriousness.  His eyes fastened on the crescent of pinkness, then gradually slid down to a bulging cleavage bunched up by her arms as she leaned forward on the table.

Rose froze in shock.  Her cheeks coloured under the intensity of the Doctor’s gaze and his off-hand comment.  What did he mean, she’d always been a tease?  

Oh, she’s certainly _tried_ to be a flirt, but he’d almost always reacted as if he hadn’t gotten the signal.  Sometimes he’d flirt back outrageously, but it was just part of the game they played.  If things got too out of hand, he’d sober up or disappear into the bowels of the TARDIS, sending her a clear message that he had no intention of following through.  After a year or so of trying to capture his attentions, she convinced herself it was just a silly game and that he was truly one of the most asexual… and infuriatingly clueless… beings she’d ever met.

Until he met Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, that is.  The very fact that he had shown the courtesan the first evidence of sexual interest still filled her with hurt rage.  Pushing the thought out of her head, she collected herself enough to be bold. Could it be possible that he was interested all the time?  Or had she been making an adolescent fool of herself?  Perhaps there was some Time Lord signal she didn’t know to use?  

Their bonding was deeply emotional, but it didn’t include all of the facts.  She hadn’t tried to absorb everything she saw.  It was like focusing on one object on the screen of a Star Wars movie, and allowing everything else to blur in the background.

“ _When_ was I ever bein’ a tease, Doctor?  Give me an example, yeah?”

He leaned back into the chair, dark eyes pinning her to her seat with a penetrating dark look that made her shiver momentarily.

“Do you remember suggesting I didn’t know how to _dance_?” he asked.  “There was I, minding my own business, resonating concrete to save our lives from nano-modified children with gas-mask faces, when you start comparing me to Jack Harkness.  And not in a good way.”’

“Jus’ said he was like you, except with datin’ and dancin’, is all,” she said innocently.  “Nothin’ insultin’ about that.”

“Riiiight… You also sarcastically suggested the universe imploded if I _danced._ And then you asked me to show you my moves,” he sniffed.  “Followed by plastering yourself all over me and telling me to start moving, never letting up on the banter about Harkness.”

“You think I was tryin’ to make ya jealous, don’t ya?  Look at ya… you’re _still_ jealous ‘bout that!” she grinned.

“Nice try at deflection, Tyler.  I had no one to be jealous of, thank you very much.  I’m sure you were well aware that _your_ universe would implode if _I danced_ with you,” he grumbled.

“What if you’d thought I’d already _danced_ with Captain Jack by then?” Rose needled.  “We sipped champagne and danced to Glenn Miller on top of that Chula warship, parked right next to the ol’ Big Ben, you know.”

A stony silence followed for a few beats as the Doctor idly tugged at his sideburns in thought.  “The Chula ship that blew up?” he asked pointedly.  “The same Chula warship that I later rescued him from… against my better judgment?”

“ _Oi!_   You would have rescued him anyway, Doctor.  Not even _old you_ would be that callous.”

“ _Young_ me,” he corrected her.  “And yes, I most certainly would have left him to his fate if he’d really _danced_ with you.”

“Well, ya were a bit more possessive back then, weren’t ya?” she drawled in a mockingly condescending manner, pursing her lips out invitingly.

“Nope.  I’m just better at hiding it,” he replied.

Rose could have sworn she saw a flash of blue behind those dark brown orbs.  Somehow she didn’t doubt the veracity of his claim, particularly now that he seemed to be channelling his ninth form.

“But what made ya think it wasn’t only for ol’… or rather… younger you?  Maybe I jus’ had a thing for blue eyes an’ leather, yeah?  All of that was before you regenerated,” Rose pointed out.

“After which you snogged the living daylights out of me on New Earth,” he smirked.

“Doesn’t count ‘cause I wasn’t in control of my body. That was Cassandra!” 

“Who said you’d been _looking,_ ” he crowed triumphantly.  

Rose deflated with a slight pout.  “Now who’s teasin’,” she whinged, taking another swipe at a chip with her long pink tongue.

“You are,” he said soberly.  “Right now.  And don’t forget all those times you went prancing about the console room in silky little boxer jimjams that clung to every bend and curve, what little they covered.  Have you any idea what it was like trying to sleep next to you when you were wearing those?  How is it that you only had nightmares when you were wearing those pyjamas?  I suppose cotton flannels should be sold as a defence against night terrors!”

“Oi, I had bad dreams wearin’ my cotton flannels before.  It’s jus’ that you didn’t bother to comfort me when I wore ‘em.  You allergic to cotton or somethin’?”

“Don’t forget all those teensy-tiny little string bikinis you used to wear when we went to the beach,” he continued, ignoring her insinuating jab.

“What else was I supposed to wear, Doctor?” she frowned.  “It’s a beach.”

“What about while on the TARDIS?  Around the pool?  In the console room?”

“I wore a bikini in the console room?” Rose frowned, trying to remember if she’d ever worn a swimsuit in the console room.  Well, she did have to go through it and the TARDIS front doors to get to the beach, but she couldn’t remember a time she’d deliberately paraded a swimsuit inappropriately across the console room.

He licked his lips.  “And let’s not forget that… thing you do with your tongue,” he said, eyes darkening again as he focused on her mouth.

Rose pulled in her tongue, which had been stuck in the corner of her mouth, with a soft plopping noise.  She was about to protest that it was _he_ who was always doing some virtually indecent _tongue_ _thing_ that drove her mad with lust, but he leaned forward aggressively with a predatory look. 

“Did you think I couldn’t see?  You didn’t think I noticed all those times you sat in the jump seat and tempted me?” he asked with quiet intensity, unblinking as he stared her down.  “All those times you wriggled, squirmed and licked your lips while reading those indecent, slashy, fan-fiction stories from the Internet?  I saw you looking, Rose Tyler.  Practically stripped me naked with your eyes, you did.”

“I… I didn’t!  I… n-never,” stuttered Rose in embarrassment.  “I… I never thought you wanted…”  She swallowed thickly and trailing off into a choked whisper, transfixed by his motionless regard.

His voice dropped into a low vibrato.  “Oh, I wanted…,” he assured her with a very faint rapacious smile.

“B-but y-you never said nothin’,” she whimpered, feeling her body temperature rise.  “I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d ever notice.”

“Oh, but I could _smell_ you, Rose,” he breathed as his gaze grew even more heated and his nostrils flared.  “All those pheromones wafting through the air.  I could smell how excited you were becoming, and it was drivin’ me completely spare.  Why do you think I hid myself underneath and behind the console so much?”

Rose squeaked weakly in horror, unable to tear her eyes away from the incendiary look on the Doctor’s face.  “ _Smell?_   You could _smell_ me?” she choked out.

“Oh yes,” he stated emphatically, “exactly as I can smell you now.  All those human pheromones pouring out of you.  If only you knew how many times I wanted to…”

He skidded to a halt and stared blankly at her for a second.  Snapping out of the mood as if turning off a switch, he launched into motion.  Swiftly, he pulled several notes from his wallet, slamming them atop the check in the middle of the table, and grabbed Rose’s hand.  

“Allons-y,” he said, and without another word dragged Rose in his wake as he strode purposefully out of the restaurant.

“Where are we goin’?” she asked, skipping to catch up and match his pace.  

“Shopping,” he smiled evilly as they stepped out into an open courtyard with colourful parasol tables.

“ _Shopping?_ ” squeaked Rose.  Her eyes widened in surprise, and admittedly a bit of disappointment.  Rose liked to shop as much as any girl.  She was Jackie Tyler’s daughter, after all.  But at the moment she was more aroused than she’d ever remembered being in her life and _shopping_ wasn’t actually the activity she had in mind.

“What for?” she asked.  Without a warning, the Doctor shifted directions and started down a pedestrian way where there were numerous boutiques and shops.

“Oh, a few toiletries we may not find at the bed and breakfast.  Underpants, unless you’re ok with the proprietor handling your unmentionables.  Maybe a trip to the Chemist’s?”

“Chemist’s?” Rose asked weakly.  Her hormone-addled brain tried desperately to pull threads of thought into a cohesive picture of what they were doing.  The Doctor raised an eyebrow and gave her a look like she’d dribbled down her shirt.  Some things, Rose thought, didn’t change regardless of their relationship.

“Oh!” she cried suddenly in consternation.  “Oh, oh, ooooooh!!”  She slapped a hand to her face as his thinly-veiled hint drove home.  “But…”  She stopped and stared at him, not quite knowing how to phrase the next question.

“But?” he asked, looking a little amused.

“Uhm… what, uhm, size.”  Rose’s face flared a bright pink as her ears turned a deep red.

He blinked, and then doubled over in a braying belly laugh that flushed frightened pigeons for blocks.  Rose felt heat radiating from her cheeks as if she were severely sunburned, yet she couldn’t help but giggle at the Doctor’s infectious roaring.

Finally catching his breath, he sat down hard on the concrete walkway, wiping gleeful tears from his eyes.  

“Oh, Rassilon!” he chuckled.  “I think I’ve hurt myself,” he added breathlessly, grabbing his side.  “Don’t think I’ve laughed like that since I got here.”

Rose smiled and chewed on her lip as she helped him up from the ground.  He brushed off the seat of his trousers with one hand, and then he pulled Rose up against him.  Before she knew what was happening, he dipped down and pressed his lips against hers.

She melted against him, pressing her lips firmly against his.  As his lips relax slightly, she felt the wet tip of his tongue brush lightly against the juncture of hers, begging for permission to deepen the kiss.  She let her lips part.  His tongue wriggled in to swipe teasingly against the inside of her plumb bottom lip before he suckled at it gently.  

Rose groaned softly as she felt more heat build and radiate from her core.  His tongue flickered into her mouth, exploring and tasting every part of it.  It probed her palate, plunged into her cheeks and curled around her tongue in a wrestling duel as he hummed.  Suddenly the hard tip of his tongue was stroking an intricate pattern up and down the underside of her tongue, making her breath hitch and stagger as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.

“ _Oi, get a room!_ ” came a reedy shout behind the Doctor.  The Doctor chuckled wickedly into her mouth as he released it with a loud pop.  Peeking around him, Rose saw an elderly, stooped man in a tam behind them, shaking a polished wooden walking stick at the two lovers.

“Sorry, mate,” she apologised with a grin.

The Doctor whispered into her ear before straightening.  “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of the details.  I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” he smiled devilishly.

Linking arms with him as they began to walk towards the shops, Rose grinned up at him.  “Aww, think you’re all that impressive, do ya?”

“I _am_ all that impressive, Rose Tyler!  Hope they have a sound-proof room at that B &B, or you may bring those ol’ Victorian walls down,” he said smugly with a wink.

“Hmmm, bet I can make ya squeak for mercy like a little mouse,” Rose threatened cheekily.  

“Oh, you are _so_ on, you saucy little minx!” the Doctor chortled.  “Bring it!”

They spent the next 30 minutes in a guerrilla-like shopping spree, ducking into four shops along the way to the B&B and grabbing supplies as if under a stop-watch.  They stuffed everything into a garishly pink _Hello_ Kitty rolling piece of baggage that Rose found at a department store, an article the Doctor refused to carry, and shut down their phones before heading in a North-westerly direction toward Cathedral Road.  

“No one needs to know where we’re staying for the night, Rose,” he insisted.  “And I certainly don’t want our mobiles going off all evening because your Mum feels like a little chat!”  

Rose thought better of mentioning how Torchwood would be monitoring them via live public web cams.  She used her body to block views as the Doctor utilised a bit of sonic jiggery-pokery to obtain a considerable sum of money from an ATM cash machine.  “No credit cards.  They can be traced too easily,” he sniffed.  Rose smiled, but once again remained silent.

The two arrived at the B&B looking like typical tourists, and with the flash of psychic paper and a thick wad of notes they found themselves booked into the best superior double ensuite at the top level.

“Please come this way, Dr and Mrs Smith,” the proprietor said pleasantly as he led them to the accommodations.   Extremely gracious, he filled them in on the amenities, provided them maps of the local area with recommendations for dinner, and quietly took his leave.

Rose squealed and ran into the middle of the large room.  She held out her arms and spun around in circles, trying to take in the beautiful furnishings and tasteful décor.  A large four-poster bed sat conspicuously against one wall, one corner of its exquisitely brocaded cover turned down.  

“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed as she ran back to the Doctor and leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his long thighs.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” he said with a shake of his head.  “I’m sorry, but this will never do!”

“What?” exclaimed Rose.  She dropped back down to the floor crestfallen.

The Doctor grasped her hand tightly and tugged her back out the door.  Protesting weakly, Rose pointed to the little pink rolling bag still sitting in the middle of the room.  “What about…,” she started, just as the Doctor picked her up behind shoulder and knees.

“What the…?” Before she had a chance to register the Doctor’s big grin, he stepped boldly across the threshold with an astonished and gaping Rose in his arms.  Kicking the door shut with his foot, he gracefully set Rose back on her feet.

“You carried me across the threshold,” Rose said incredulously.  

“Yup,” he grinned.  “Isn’t that the Earthly tradition?  A man should carry his bride over the threshold on their wedding night?  So, where were we?”

Rose stared at him, waiting for the inevitable gushing stream of scholarly explanations for cited Earthly tradition.  A lengthy silence followed as the Doctor cocked his head comically at Rose’s raised eyebrows.  “Something wrong?” he finally asked.

“You’re not gonna explain it to me?”

“Oh!” he uttered in a surprised tone.  “You want me to explain the tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold?  Weeell, it’s actually a fairly new Western European tradition from the Middle Ages, based on the idea that brides were considered lightning rods for a young man’s misfortunes, which really isn’t such a stupid idea when you think about…”

Grabbing him by the jumper, Rose shut him up the only way she knew how.  She placed him in a lip-lock, threw her arms around his neck and hopped up to wrap her legs around his slender hips.  Caught off-guard and slightly off-balance, the Doctor staggered backwards until he thumped into the wall behind him as Rose broke the kiss.

“Oh yes… _that’s_ where we were,” he murmured.  Like lightning, he arched his back and pivoted around to press Rose firmly against the flowery wall-paper, dipping slightly to grind his hips sensuously into hers.  Pinned helplessly to the wall, she gasped as he reached down to lift her up by the bum and settle her strategically around his hips.

Her head was now almost even with his, and she could feel his heated breath against her lips as he panted softly.  His eyes were dark, limpid pools of ravenous darkness that lured her, pulled at her core.  Slowly, silently, he moved in to brush his lips to hers.  She could feel his heart pounding against hers, could feel his want and need for her growing exponentially through their bond.  But no words came through the bond, only raw emotion and aching need as he deepened the kiss until her head connected to the wall.

Rose instinctively parted her lips, inviting him to invade her mouth with that multi-talented tongue of his.  She felt it uncurl and caress her own welcoming tongue.  She could imagine it stroking its way down her body, touching her _everywhere_ , setting her very nerves on fire.   She whined and thrashed in agitation as he dipped his head to latch onto the base of her neck to pull at it with a hard suction.  Her eyes flickered to the bed.

 “’S an awfully big bed,” she remarked.

“How big is your bed?” he asked, eyes fixed on her mouth as he drew a thumb lightly over her lower lip.

“’S… a double.  Nothin’ special.”

“I have a queen-sized bed at your Mum’s, you know.  Think it’ll fit in your bedroom?” he murmured, not appearing to be particularly interested in furnishings, in spite of their conversation topic.

“Nope,” she laughed, popping her ‘p’ in typical Doctor fashion.

“Well,” he sighed, “I suppose we’d better start house hunting fairly soon, or you’ll have to put up with me hogging the bed.”

“Oh, I remember!”  Rose groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically.  “How many times have we had to share a tiny little single bed?  Or worse, a narrow cot in a prison cell?  An’ always, you with the long arms and legs… ya manage t’ take up every inch of it while I end up on top of ya or underneath ya?”

The Doctor went motionless momentarily as his eyes darkened, and instantly Rose’s face flushed, having realised what she’d said.

As his voice taking on a deeper timbre, the Doctor leaned in to nip at her ear.  “Is that a _bad_ thing, being on top or underneath me?”

“No,” Rose said with a hitch in her breath.  

“I don’t deserve you, Rose.  After everything you’ve suffered, I’m hardly a prize.”

Jaws moving silently as she bit back a rebuttal, her eyes hardened in resolve.

“Tough, mister,” she growled softly.  “I claimed you.  You gave yourself to me, heart and soul.  You promised me your forever, remember?”

“Yeah, I did,” he said meekly with a crooked smile.  “But are you sure you want to give yourself to me fully, Rose?” he asked softly.  “Do you want me to take _all_ of you?  It can’t be undone, once done.  I will have so much power over you, as you have over me now.  Is that what you want?  For me to be able to command, and you would have to obey?  Do you trust me enough to allow that?”

“It goes both ways, yeah?  I could already do that with you when I claimed you, yeah?  You trusted me enough for that, didn’t ya?”

“Always.  You had me at ‘run,’ Rose,” he admitted.  “But yes, your wish is my command, my love.”

“Then, yes,” she whispered.  “Take me, my Doctor.  Take me and do what you will.”

He lifted her and gingerly lowering her to their marriage bed, their eyes locked together in shared excitement, expectation, and terror as they embarked on a journey of discovery.

The joining of their bodies only echoed the merging of their psyches, the unbreakable bonding of their souls.  They came together quickly, passionately, and powerfully; two irresistible Forces that the universe could no longer keep apart.  Those entities sensitive to eddies within the Time-Space Continuum gazed up in wonder at the skies as a titanic struggle took place.  One willingly captured and one willingly collared, the Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf’s joyful cries of Union reverberated and rippled throughout the universe.  In a burst of Power that made itself known even across the Void, Equilibrium was established.  A delicate Balance within the universe was restored, answering the prayers of some, while striking a chill within the withered hearts of those who favoured Chaos.

Exhausted and spent by their tumultuous first joining, they slept.

Rose drifted glacially back to consciousness, roused from a dreamless sleep by a buzzing, sawing noise.  Forcing heavy lids open, she blurrily saw a manly, hairy arm come into sight.  The prickle of stiff hairs against her cheek made her aware she was pillowed on the arm of her husband behind her.  Shifting and twisting around to face him, she met two enormous brown orbs, flecks of what seemed like living strands of gold weaved within the milk chocolate brown.  She stared into them, snatching at threads of fleeting memories as her mind gradually came back online and functional.

“Hello,” she managed to hoarsely whisper, noting a bit of soreness as she swallowed.  Her throat felt as if she’d cheered all night at a football game.

“Hello,” he rumbled back, his chest hairs vibrating and tickling her breasts.  He leaned in for a heartbreakingly tender kiss before giving her arm a feather-light stroke that made her toes curl.

“Hmmm, you woke me snoring in my ear,” she moaned, snuggling closer.  Wincing, she reached to rub gently at a spot of soreness on her shoulder.  The Doctor kissed the bite-shaped purple bruise where he had marked her at the height of passion, looking anything but contrite about placing it there. ****

“No, I didn’t,” he continued the argument with a smile.

“Yeah, you did,” she insisted with a grin.  “Was deep asleep, I was, when it sounded like a forest was bein’ taken down.”

“Rose Marion Tyler,” he chuckled.  “That was you sawing logs like a lumberjack!”

She sat up, hair mussed to the heavens and eyes half-lidded in sleep, and he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in a millennium of living.

“Seriously?  That was me?” she frowned in consternation.

“Weeeelll, wasn’t gonna mention it, but… yeah,” he drawled with a grin.  “Is this our first argument as husband and wife, by the way?”

“Yeah… guess so,” she chuckled, as he swooped in for more kisses.

The loud grumble of two empty bellies echoed through the room, ruining the moment.  Rose groaned loudly and flopped onto her back, twisting her neck around to see the clock-radio on the stand next to their bed.

“Is that clock right?” she grimaced, squinting at the table top device.

“Yup,” he responded with a sly crooked smile.

“Can’t be,” Rose frowned.  “According to that clock, we only checked in 15 minutes ago.  We’ve been here at least an hour, if not longer.”

The Doctor stretched lazily, nonchalantly, like the cat that got the cream, but said nothing.

“Hold on… did you do something with Time?”

“Might have done,” he responded vainly, snuggling back into the covers so only one eye peeked out.

“So you jus’ decided to try out temporal mechanics while we’re makin’ love for the first time, eh?” she badgered good-naturedly.

“I don’t want tonight to end too soon,” he explained.  “And it kept the proprietor from calling the police.  To anyone with an ear to the door, you probably would have sounded like a little mouse squeaking,” he added with a wink.

Rose snorted derisively.  “As if your bellowing like a rutting Judoon wouldn’t alarm him?”

“Didn’t hear you complaining about it,” he replied impudently.    

“Don’t you get cocky with me, mate!” Rose mockingly chided him, climbing atop his chest to deliver a blow to his head with her pillow.

“Oh, and you weren’t complainin’ ‘bout _that,_ either, as I recall!” he baited, defending himself from several more slaps of the pillow.

Suddenly, Rose’s eyes went round as she sat bolt upright.  

“Oh, no!” she gasped, staring at a small brown paper bag on the table next to the clock.

The Doctor followed her line of sight and froze.

“Oops.”

“’Oops’ is right,” sighed Rose.  “Nothin’ we can do ‘bout it now, I suppose.”

“Do we _need_ to do anything about it, Rose?  Ever?” asked the Doctor.  Something in his tone, and an anxious expectation flowing across their bond, caused her to look down at him.  Big, brown puppy-dog like eyes greeted her.

“Well, I don’t know ‘bout _ever_ , Doctor,” Rose answered after a beat.  “But we can talk ‘bout it after our tummies stop growlin’, yeah?”  She bent over to give him a quick kiss as he smiled gratefully.

“Shower, change of clothes, and let’s send our dirty clothes out for cleanin’ first, eh?” Rose said as she rolled out of the bed, much to the Doctor’s chagrin.

“Rooose?” he groaned as he followed her into the ensuite bathroom.  “Can we get something besides fish and chips for a change?  Something that moo’ed, or baaaaah’ed, or clucked?  Clucking is good… Quacking is even better.  Quaaaack!!!”

“Shut up!!” yelled Rose.  “Oh my gawd, I’ve married a 900 year-old child!” she laughed in exasperation.

“Are you my Mummy?”


	32. Borderline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still the Doctor and Rose's wedding night, and much is happening while they have their much-deserved time together... Plot bunnies galore...

 

Twisting so extremely that her right shoulder appeared uncomfortably perpendicular to the seat, Hal stared sullenly out of the jet window into the star-dotted blackness.  She studiously ignored the feeling of Harkness’ eyes boring relentlessly into her back, not daring to engage him in a hostile stare down with Pete Tyler watching their every motion.   In spite of her best attempts to escape, she'd been called back in by her brother with the assurance that she'd not been terminated... just yet. Two days, he said. Two days to give Pete time to give her bloody hell before terminating her.

It had taken every ounce of resolve to sit through an hour and a half major dress-down from her leader while outwardly showing nothing but proper deference.  Seething inside, she forced herself to look suitably contrite and subdued while all the while wanting to rip Harkness into tiny immortal shreds.  The anguished cries of young Steven’s mother reverberated through her head like a looped recording, despite every effort to block out the maddening scene.    

Rationally, she knew Harkness’ presence would be as unavoidable as it was intolerable.  His emotional proximity to both Rose and the Doctor made distancing herself nigh impossible.   Frustration only continued to build as the idea of eventually being forced to accept Harkness as a family friend or worse, a member of the family, drove Hal to distraction.  She would do it.  Of course, she would do it for Rose and the Doctor, but she wouldn’t make it easy for the ex-Time Agent.  

The betrayal and sacrifice of a family member, particularly a child, was utterly unfathomable to Hal.  She would have defended such a precious life to the final death.  How a man who purportedly claimed immortality could commit such an act was beyond her ken.  She would see to it that poor little Steven received some measure of justice, no matter the cost.

Hal shivered as a burst of warmth spread through her centre, followed by a rush of pure joy.  She smiled, knowing without words that her brother was finally properly joined to his life bondmate.  In the periphery of her vision, she caught an ethereal wave of shuddery twinkling wash across the cold darkness as the stars announced a momentous event that would change the course of history across the universe.  Perhaps, even beyond into the multiverse.  Pressing her forehead to the cold glass window she watched, wide-eyed in wonder as the energies and very fabric of Time and Space warped across the interstellar canvas.  An uncontrollable giggle burst from her at the realisation that she had stumbled into an extraordinary family so very, very far from her original, equally extraordinary family.  Hal had an embarrassment of riches, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Something funny, Dr. Forbin?” asked Pete Tyler in a neutral tone.  

Hal turned to meet his gaze and had to stifle a laugh at his puzzled expression.  He was obviously on the look-out for signs of mental instability in his wayward employee, cocking his head slightly with crinkled brow and just a tiny bit of worry about his eyes and pursed lips.  Biting back a quip about how often she’d seen such an expression before... many, many times..., Hal forced herself to give him a very mild, slightly embarrassed smile.

“Just thinking about a rather interesting family wedding, is all,” she assured him.  “It was quite the cosmic event, really, and a real blast.  Sorry I disturbed you.”

She dropped her eyes demurely and turned back to the window.  Much to her chagrin, she could see the reflection of the Captain’s face in the glass, his brilliant blue eyes fixed on her once again.  Sighing, she shifted her focus back to the stars that had returned to their usual hard brilliance.  A pity, she thought, that such a gorgeous face had to belong to a man she was destined to despise.

Another face floated into her consciousness.  A wavy-blonde man with classic chisel-chinned good looks and intelligent blue-grey eyes smiled calmly back.  She had never seen him otherwise, her Daryl, who could remain unflappable as Laurence of Arabia while flying into the midst of a solar storm.  A twinge of guilt pricked her as she recalled how her faithfulness to Daryl had wavered when she first saw Jack Harkness.  Hal bit her lip, knowing that Daryl would never, _ever,_ give up on her.  He would never contemplate looking at another as long as there was hope of her eventual return home.  He was the perfect man; designed to be affectionate, always calm, always supportive, never sharp or rude, never unfaithful.  

And therein lay the problem:  He was too perfect, too _synthetic_.  He possessed the perfect, _predictable_ and irascibly stable personality that would eventually drive her right up a wall.  There would never be a real row with Daryl.  The most she had ever accomplished with him was the equivalent of shadow-boxing, as he would never fight back.  He was incapable of hurting her, either physically or emotionally, and she would always feel like a right bitch afterwards for trying to wind him up.  

But how _else_ could she know if he really felt anything for her, or whether he was simply _programmed_ to react as if he cared?  There was no hope that she could connect with him telepathically, as he was inorganic for the most part.  Certainly his central nervous system was inorganic.  One of the most powerful telepaths in the known galaxy, Hal couldn’t detect a single thought or emotion from Daryl.  She couldn’t escape the knowledge that Daryl was basically an artificial construct.  Oh, it was true he was certified as a Class 3 sentient lifeform, but Hal’s senses screamed _machine_ every minute she was in his presence.  She’d felt far more from naturally-evolved silicone-based lifeforms.

Her family had insisted on arranging a relationship with Daryl, however, after some fairly disastrous relationships of her own choosing.  At least, the male head of household had been rather insistent, noting Hal had a propensity for selecting “bad boys” as potential mates.  After grudgingly promising Elly that she would give Daryl a go in order to placate Alan, she had settled into a fairly stable — stable for Hal, anyway — relationship with the charming android.  One could hardly be in a rocky relationship where one’s partner endeared himself to the entire family, refused to row, and ended even the slightest disagreement with a technically flawless performance in bed.

A shudder shot through Hal at a stray memory of one such session, reminding her ruefully of how long it had been since she’d shared her bed with a partner.  Harkeness’ 51st Century pheromones called to her like a Siren, ever on the edge of consciousness.  His edginess only appealed to her more primal feelings.  For five years she had managed to keep her libido all but non-existent; yet another reason to dislike the exceedingly _pretty_ Captain, as the Doctor was fond of calling him.  She wasn’t sure which irritated her the most; her attraction to him or his obvious failures.

_Stop staring at me, you jerk!_ Hal growled at him telepathically.  Harkness’ stare was getting to her more each second.  Jack’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise.

_Oh,_ he answered back in return, his telepathic voice carrying a faint hint of amusement.  _Your Majesty finally acknowledges my existence._

_The proper address is Your Highness,_ Hal sniped back, shooting him a glare.  _And if it weren’t for the Doctor and Rose, I would rectify that issue._ Hal’s expression changed suddenly to a more neutral cast as she turned to face the window again,cognisant that she had said too much.  

_Your Highness... well that explains a lot,_ Jack mused.  _How can I help but to stare at such gorgeousness, Your Highness?  Not like there’s much to look at in here._

Hal remained silent, staring resolutely out the window as if the approaching lights of London held an incredible fascination.  Jack noted that she hadn’t slammed her shields down as he’d expected, effectively cutting off communication with him.  Encouraged, he plodded on.

_I’m sorry,_ he ventured.  Opening himself up in a show of trust, he dropped his shields slightly to let her see a glimpse of the truthfulness of his simple statement.

_As you should be,_ Hal responded implacably.  He could see the stony set of her features reflected in the shiny blackness of the glass.

_What can I do to make this better?_ Jack asked, hoping against hope that there really was something he could do to win over the little blonde.  He figured he might not ever have a chance with her, but she was too close to the duplicate Doctor and Rose to simply ignore.  From the sound of things, he might be stuck in this universe permanently.  He had to try to bury the hatchet, and the sooner the better.

Hal turned to face him with an owlish look that was almost frightening in its intensity.

_Better?  Better?!?  Oh, Captain, you have no idea,_ Hal replied.  _You and I have a score to settle, and it will take a lot more than you’re willing to give._

Jack paused and glanced away for a second before meeting Hal’s eyes with a look of resolution.

_Try me,_ he challenged her.  _You can kill me as many times as you like.  I’ll just keep coming back for more._

A slow, lazy smile crept over Hal’s features for the first time since she’d boarded the jet.

_That I may hold you to, Captain Harkness,_ Hal replied calmly as the pilot announced landing procedures.

“Captain Harkness, my wife has set up one of the guest rooms in the mansion for you,” Pete interrupted.  “I’d like for you to remain our guest for as long as you like, but at least until we can get you set up with an identity and suitable lodging.  Security at the mansion is tight, so we won’t have to explain your appearance until we’re ready.  Is that alright with you?”

Jack gave him a genuine smile of gratitude.  “I’m honoured, Mr. Tyler,” he said with a nod.  “But are you sure I wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“Pete... call me Pete, please,” the Torchwood Director added.  “And of course you wouldn’t be an imposition.  The Doctor lives with us, and I’m sure he, Jackie and Rose would love the opportunity to reconnect with you now that you’re here.  Think nothing of it.”

“Thank you... Pete,” grinned Jack.  “And feel free to call me Jack.  I’d also love to see what you’ve done with the organisation in this universe.  I’m sure we have a lot to discuss.”

“Excellent,” Pete nodded with a grin.  “Then it’s decided.  As a friend of the family, you’ll have free run of the estate, but I needn’t mention that I expect you to go through Torchwood security procedures before you are allowed access to classified information.”

“Of course,” Jack responded agreeably.  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Yawning nonchalantly, Hal stretched to the limitations of her seatbelt, thinking of how the Doctor’s tenure as Tyler mansion resident was coming to a close.  She would leave the telling of that bit of information to the Doctor.  She didn’t envy him, that’s for sure.  No doubt, Jackie would not be happy to find her daughter had married without her presence.  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the thought of all the changes to come.  If all went well, she would be home soon... and the horrible loneliness was all but gone.

“Hal?” Pete interrupted her thoughts.  “Think you can stay out of trouble for a night?  You still have a personal day off tomorrow, you know.”  His face was kindly, seemingly in a teasing mood.

“Eh, I’ll be alright,” she grinned.  “No Doctor.”

Pete narrowed his eyes.  “Where are those two, anyway?”

“Oh, shopping somewhere in Cardiff, probably,” Hal answered cagily, averting her eyes.  “You know how the Doctor loves his little shops.”

Astute as usual, Pete opened his mouth as if to say something, then clamped it shut with a knowing look.  “Shopping, right,” he growled a few seconds later.

Hal bolted from the cabin with barely a word upon touchdown, heading straight for the parking area where the 911 and the little TARDIS blue hybrid sat.  She tossed the keys to the Porsche onto the seat, then fished a set of keys to the hybrid from her pocket.  

“That your Porsche?” Jack asked from behind her.  “You drive a _911?”_   He gave Hal an appreciative once over as she turned to face him.

“I do,” she answered in a clipped tone, not willing to say more.

“Wow.  I wouldn’t have guessed,” Jack said with a whistle.  “I think I like you even more,” he added with a cheeky boyish grin.

With a dismissive sniff, Hal strolled over to the hybrid and glided in.  Jack, never one to give in easily, followed and leaned onto the open door before Hal could close it.

“So, what’s with the little bitty blue car?” he asked.

Sighing in exasperation, she placed the key into the ignition and started the engine.  

“It’s the Doctor’s car,” she explained, wondering if there was any way of escaping Jack Harkness short of killing him.  “I have to shop for camping equipment tomorrow, so we’re swapping vehicles.”

“Heh, I can see that,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling as they swept the blue car.  “Although, I woulda thought he’d go for something with a bit more power?  The blue I get, but this thing runs on underfed gerbils.”

Angered, Hal slammed the car door with a pathetically puny metallic thud, rocking the lightweight vehicle and throwing Jack off balance.  “It was a gift!” she snapped before shifting into reverse and backing up.  Harkness jumped back with both hands in the air.  Clearly Hal wasn’t concerned if his feet were underneath, although he doubted the mostly fibreglass vehicle would do much harm.

“Call me?” he shouted to her as she sped away, careening around a smaller jet in the hanger.

Pete approached from behind, shaking his head.  “Better leave that one alone, Jack.  She has a reputation as a loner, not to mention for putting men in their places.  In the five years I’ve known her, I’ve not heard of her going on one date.”

“Then it’s been way too long!” grinned Jack.  “Besides, I think that deep down inside, she fancies me.”

Giving Harkness a serious look, Pete shook his head slowly.  “Well, maybe it’s not Hal I need to warn you about, but the Doctor.  He’s quite fond of her and adopted her as family.  Watch your step, as he’s quite protective of his own.”

“Oh, I know, Pete.  If he’s anything like his progenitor, I know.  Believe me, I’ve seen the Oncoming Storm, and it’s not something I want bearing down on me.  I may be immortal, but I ain’t stupid.”

“Just so we understand each other,” Pete ended.  He turned and gestured for Jack to follow him.  Jack looked back in the direction Hal had taken, and smiled before joining Pete’s receding form.

                                                                                  *********************************************************************************************

Feeling as if she had been away for weeks, Hal’s hand trembled slightly with excitement as she placed it on the security pad of her flat.  She swept in with a huge sigh before throwing herself onto the sofa, keys still in hand.

“Welcome back, Hal,” intoned Sid.  His dulcet English-accented voice, as always, showed not a hint of emotion.  “I trust your mission was completed successfully?”

“You could say that,” Hal answered softly.  “An old friend of Rose and the Doctor unexpectedly dropped in.”

“From the alternate universe?” asked Sid.

Hal sat up with a look of astonishment.  Sid was constantly surprising her with his increasingly advanced cognition, as if the recent constant stimulus from human interaction increased his intelligence.

“That’s very good, Sid,” she praised him.  “He is, indeed, from the Prime universe.  How did you arrive at that conclusion?”

“The term ‘old friend’ implies that the relationship is long-standing,” he began to explain.  “As the Doctor has only been in this universe a few short months, and both he and Rose knew this individual intimately in the past, the conclusion I reached was that there was an 87.689% probability that they both acquainted themselves with the person in Prime.”

Hal chuckled.  “I don’t know about _intimately_ , beyond friendship; but you are quite correct.  His name is Captain Jack Harkness.”

“Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood team lead at Torchwood Three, Cardiff, Wales,” recited Sid.  “Records are sketchy, but indicate that Captain Harkness was once a Time Agent, but left the Agency to become a con-artist specialising in black market technology.  He was born on the Boeshane Peninsula sometime in the 51st Century, the son of...”

Hal stood up sharply in shock.  “Oh my god, that’s him!  You actually have records on him?”

“Of course,” Sid replied smoothly.  “I downloaded the most current delta from Forbin prior to our arrival here.  Information on Harkness was included in the full load of Forbin intelligence data.”

“Give me everything you’ve got,” ordered Hal, who ran to the kitchen to start a cup of espresso.

                                                                      **************************************************************************************************************

After showering and finding sets of fresh clothing, a tray of assorted canapé, a bottle of wine, and pyjamas magically awaiting him in the on suite, Jack Harkness was starting to think he could get use to a life living with the horsey set.  That is, until he had to spend two hours at dinner with Jackie and Pete Tyler.  The food was undeniably a cut above the usual Torchwood pizza and sandwich faire he was used to consuming in the Hub, but Jackie’s interrogation techniques were masterful.  He wasn’t aware he had so many secrets until Jackie honed in on them like a laser cannon.  Glancing at Pete periodically in a silent appeal for help, he decided that Pete was doing an excellent job of playing _good cop_ by gently reminding Jackie that Jack was their guest and a good friend of Rose; which, of course, only changed the direction of Jackie’s attack.  After Jack delivered several momentous and convincing yawns, Jackie finally got the message and reverted to a proper hostess by shooing Jack straight to bed.

Jack lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours, feeling quite lost in the relatively huge guest room.  Not for the first time, he missed his tiny little underground cot in the Hub, idly wondering if he might be allowed to once again arrange the area in the alternate Torchwood Three to his liking.  He had a long way to go to get to that level of trust with the current organisation, he realised with a groan.

By 2 am, sleep eluding him, he decided a brisk walk outdoors might relieve some of his tension.  His requirements for sleep were significantly less than that of a normal human, but it was the _strangeness_ of this alternate universe that disturbed him the most.  Artron energy, the source of his immortality and much of his metabolism, flowed differently here.  He was a fact that existed throughout the multiverse; yet, something felt _wrong,_ and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  

Donning his clothing and great coat, Jack slipped down the stairs with surprising stealth for a man his size.  Keying in the security code to the back door, he stepped out into the crisp night air and took a deep cleansing breath.  The smell of late Spring flowers brought a smile to his face as he looked up to the gibbous moon.  Only a tiny sliver was shaved off the leading edge of the gigantic single satellite, leaving the moon almost as bright as a full moon.  With superior low-light sight, Jack could easily make out a path leading into the woods behind the mansion.  He broke into a trot, enjoying the feel of freedom after hours locked up in the Vault.

Slowing to a brisk walk, Jack listened to the sounds of the forest at night.  An owl hoot, appearing to come right above his head, startled him enough that he almost bolted before catching himself.  He laughed heartily, wondering when he’d grown afraid of the dark.  He was far too old to start imagining eyes peering at him from the shadows, he berated himself.  Just as he approached a clearing, a large shadow passed over him.  He stopped, straining to hear any sounds he could attribute to the shadow, but there was only the silence punctuated by the trill of insects and frogs.

Shrugging off the prickle of fear running up his back, he stepped into the clearing carpeted with grass and shrubs.  A light wind tugged at his coat as he walked, his eyes scanning for badger holes along the way.  Within twenty paces, a soft thud and a brief whooshing noise behind him made him stop in his tracks.  Shutting his eyes tightly, he slowly turned around to face whatever had been following him on the path.  Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes.

Jack’s jaw dropped in surprise at what was no more than five steps away from him, almost within arm’s length, were he bold enough to touch it.  Before him stood the impossible:  A full-sized dragon about twelve feet in height sat on its haunches, its jewel-like eyes shining a dark blue-black in the moon’s glare.  Large leathery, bat-like wings were partially folded across its back, which led down to a long tail with soft ridges that ended in a deadly looking three-pronged spike.  At the end of the sinewy neck was a head not unlike that of a classic Chinese dragon with fleshy tendrils around the terrifyingly enormous mouth lined with sharp pointy teeth.  Short, Tyrannosaurus Rex-like arms sprouted from its chest, ending in thin fingers sheathed by razor sharp claws.  Its hide was covered in small iridescent scales that rippled and shifted colours, primarily a burnished gold, but with hints of red, green and blue.  It was simply gorgeous, if one weren’t the object of its regard a mere five feet away.

A low hiss, followed by a puff of breathy vapour in the cold air, indicated that it wasn’t about to invite Jack to tea.  Besides, it was rather early for tea just yet, Jack mused.

“Uhm.. hello, uh... dragon,” Jack stammered, not quite sure how to address such a being.  A louder hiss in response wasn’t encouraging.

“Uh, look, Mr. Dragon,” Jack added hastily as he backed up slowly, palms held out to show he was unarmed and meant no ill will.  “I don’t think I’ve ever annoyed a dragon enough to have a beef with me, because frankly, I’ve never seen one of you guys until right this instant.  But might I say, you are one of the most beautiful creatures... uhm, I mean... beings, I’ve ever encountered in my long life.  And believe me, I’m pretty darned old for a human.”

_How beautiful will you think me as I’m picking your treacherous bones from my teeth?_ asked the Dragon in a telepathic voice.

Jack’s eyes widened, but not at the prospect of being eaten by a dragon; he’d certainly experienced worse demises in his life; but because there was something familiar about the feminine voice reverberating in his head.  He bent over briefly to inspect the underbelly of the huge beast.

“Oh... sorry about that, _Ms Dragon_.  My bad.  But, do I know you?”

_Not really.  But we have some personal business to attend to, you and I,_ replied the dragon.

“Hal?” he blurted in sudden recognition.  

_Oh yes,_ she replied.  _None other._ __

Jack prodded mentally to see if he could connect telepathically to Hal as before, but her shields were impenetrable.  He would have to reply verbally, it seemed. 

“You’re a... a shifter?” 

If it was possible for a dragon to roll its eyes, Hal somehow managed it.  _Duh,_ she responded acidly.  _You think?_

“Aww, this is just incredible!” chuckled Jack.  “The Doc’s sister is a shifter, and she’s about to bloody _eat_ me!”  

Tears were leaking from Jack’s eyes as he bent double in macabre laughter, leaving him to miss the loud hiss as Hal’s scaly tail swiped around in a whipping arc to slam him fifty feet into a nearby tree.  Sightless eyes still open, Jack’s body slipped silently to the ground in a heap at its base.  Hal ambled over and sat next to the motionless corpse to wait, sniffing at the bizarre smell as Artron energy built up within him.

Five minutes later, Jack sat bolt upright with a loud gasp, startling Hal to her feet.  He patted himself down his body in surprise, heaving huge breaths as his body reanimated itself.  The terror of waking from death was still there he noted, but the flow of Artron energy was reversed.  Jack wasn’t quite sure how that worked, but at least Hal had proved that he could return in the new universe.  And he was also fairly sure from the distinct lack of blood on his coat and clothing that he hadn’t been devoured.

“Hey,” he gasped, “you didn’t eat me!”

_You should live so long, Immortal,_ groused Hal sarcastically.  _Now, shall we begin?_

“Oh... I take it, that wasn’t it,” Jack said, sounding only a little disheartened.

_Hardly,_ huffed Hal.   _You took 13 innocent lives.  Thirteen little children had their lives utterly destroyed because you made a decision not to defend them against a foreign invader.  One of those children was your own flesh and blood; your own family member.  You forced your own daughter to watch as you sacrificed her son.  Does this not bother you, Jack Harkness?  Or have you become Death itself, without the capacity to experience the final true death?_

Jack swallowed hard, a huge lump forming in his throat as tears glistened.  He could never explain to Hal how much pain lay within his breast at the memory of Steven’s death at his own hands.  The guilt and the pain he took into each death, and it always came back with him.  He could never escape it, and there was no punishment great enough to exonerate him.  What Hal offered was but a single drop in the ocean, but he would take it.

“Yes, it eats me alive... every day, every second,” Jack whispered.  “But you can never do enough to me to make up for it, Hal.  I wish you could.  I _really_ , truly wish you could.  No matter how many deaths I am put through, none of them will bring those children back.  Or any of the other people I’ve hurt, ruined or killed over the thousands of years.  If you could give me the final death, I would welcome it.”

_I cannot give you the final death, Jack Harkness, but it is_ I _who need to have justice for those children.  This is between the two of us alone, understand?  I cannot abide the death of innocent children who have no defender.  I cannot abide the death of a family member at the hands of another family member.  It is against everything I hold sacred.  I have no choice but to accept you, but it must be on my terms.  I give you my solemn oath that if you betray anyone in the family, if you fail to protect them in any way, I will devote the rest of my life to discovering novel and painful ways to dispatch you, again and again.  No one, not even the Oncoming Storm, will be able to protect you._

Looking up into the blue-black glowing eyes, Jack straightened himself into a more courageous stance.  “What must I do?” he asked in a strong and determined voice.

_You will give up a life in penance for each of the children you gave up to the 456, and you will vow never again to give up a child willingly.  Do this, and I promise to stand by your side to fight to protect what is dear to us, to the very end.  Do we have an agreement, Jack Harkness?_

“Will this end the matter between us?  Do you really think you may ever forgive me?” Jack answered.  

_In time, perhaps._ _Show yourself to be a true brother to Rose; protect her and hers as I would, and we shall see,_ Hal responded noncommittally.

Jack nodded slowly, banked tears glittering unshed in the light of the moon as he accepted her terms.

“Twelve more times, right?” he gulped.

The dragon raised one prominent scaly eyebrow at him.  

_The last was for your sophomoric attempt at humour,_ harrumphed Hal.  

“Oops,” Jack grinned weakly with a childlike voice.  “Thirteen then... ok.  Well, let’s get started.”

_Take the coat off first._

Jack blinked in confusion.  “Uhm... just the coat?”

_Just the coat,_ she confirmed.

“Why just the coat?  What about the braces?”

_I like the coat,_ Hal said smugly.  _The braces, not so much._ __

Shrugging the great coat off, Jack carefully folded it in half before placing it against the tree trunk.  “Glad you like it,” he quipped sardonically.  Stepping away into the clearing, he tried to ignore the sound of sharp talons slicing through the air like a scythe toward his chest.  Obviously, she really didn’t care for the braces all that much, he thought as the blackness closed in once again.

At 7 am, just as the sun began to rise above the horizon, a bandy-kneed Jack Harkness inputted the security code to the back door of the Tyler mansion and stepped through just in time to encounter Jackie in her robe and curlers.  She froze in astonishment, cup of tea in hand, to stare open-mouthed at the man before her.

“What the hell ‘appened to _you?_ ” she blurted out.  “I thought you was upstairs still sleepin’!”

“Went for a walk,” he replied with a bleary smile.

“In nothin’ but a _coat?”_ Jackie admonished him in her best motherly tone.  “Ya went for a walk practically _starkers_ _?!?”_

Jack looked down at his bare legs and feet, wet with dew and covered in forest debris.  Thank goodness he’d thought to close a few of the buttons across the coat’s centre, or Jackie might have been given an unexpected treat.  He was indeed completely nude beneath the woollen outer garment.

“Hot flash,” he giggled with a wink.  “You know how that goes.”

“Not that old, yet, thank you very much,” Jackie muttered indignantly.  “You’d better get into the shower and warm up before you catch your death.”

“Oh, what’s one more,” smiled Jack charmingly as he dragged himself up the stairs.  “But it sounds like a plan.  When’s breakfast?”

“Fifteen more minutes, in the dining room.”  She pointed down the hallway to the entranceway.  “Pete and I will meet you there.”

Bowing slightly in response, causing Jackie to avert her eyes in modesty, Jack pushed himself to ascend to the guest room.  Fuel was exactly what he needed to recover from the night’s events.  He wondered if Hal was faring as well.

                                                        ***************************************************************************************

Weary beyond measure, Hal made her way up the stairs to her flat.  Each step weighed heavily with a profound discomfort borne of guilt and self-recrimination.  The light of a new day, something she had always enjoyed as an affirmation of life and a new beginning, now shone upon her faults and flaws like a spotlight of truth.

Judge, jury and executioner.  She could not deny that she had been all three during the night; the very epitome of a self-righteous vindicator with few boundaries beyond those she established herself.  Her family was right; she was completely rubbish on her own.  The Doctor and Rose deserved and needed a night alone with each other, and what had Hal done with that time?  She’d taken advantage of the throttled bond to commit an act that she knew the Doctor would heartily condemn.  And she had enjoyed it.

Actually, she had enjoyed only a few of the deaths she’d dealt Jack Harkness.  She had run almost the gamut of her repertory of forms, selecting the most deadly and fearful in hope to strike terror into the immortal’s veins.  Each time, he had stood almost still in acceptance, merely the slightest dread forming in his eyes.  Only once did he run, and that was when she played a deadly game of cat and mouse with him as a large and intimidating lioness.  Her roar had finally made him come undone, but by then she was already fighting off a disquieting prickle of remorse.

Much to Harkness’ amazement, she never made it past eleven deaths before he woke up alone, his great coat spread over his nude body as he gasped back to life.  No longer having the stomach for it, Hal could not bear to bring another end to the ex-Time Agent as the burning fury that drove her put itself out.  With a heavy heart, she flew back to the park near her flat to retrieve her clothing, dress, and finally sob, knees drawn up tightly against her chest.  She walked home in the waning twilight, wanting desperately to reach out to the Doctor and confess her sins, but she wouldn’t allow herself to ruin his new-found joy so soon.  He would know soon enough.

Waving off Sid’s cheerful greeting, she crawled into her bed and cried herself to sleep as loneliness and grief enveloped her.  She never noticed the equally lonely and tiny voice that reached out to her, trying desperately to brush past the tight mental shields she’d erected.

_Hello?  Please come back.  Hello?_


	33. It's You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Kelkat9: A belated birthday present that I hope will cheer you a bit after all your recent trials.

 

_Hello?  Please come back.  Hello?!?_

A tiny child-like voice cried forlornly, seeking audience with someone the voice’s owner could no longer see.  It wailed, terrified of the deafening silence and the agony of solitude.

_Please?  Please hear?  So lonely.  No one talks to me.  Hear me?  Pleeeeeeeessse!!!_

Hal woke with a start, sitting upright with a gasp of alarm.

“Sid!” she shouted into the air.

“Yes, Hal?” responded the artificial intelligence in charge of her flat.  

Wiping the perspiration from over her brow, Hal tried to gather her thoughts and calm herself.  “Is there... is there someone in here?”

“There is no one in the residence besides you, Hal,” Sid replied calmly.  “You must have been dreaming.  You were sleeping quite fitfully after your return this morning.  May I assist?   Would you like for me to play some Brahms or other baroque music for you?”

“N..no, thank you, Sid,” she replied, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to sit upright, feeling quite foolish.  “I’m getting up now.”  Checking her bedside clock, she could see it was only a few minutes after 10 am.  She had only slept a little over three hours.  Her head felt like cotton wool; her eyes felt sandy and puffy from crying.  She was fairly certain she looked as dreadful as she felt.  Memories of the night before crept into her consciousness, but she shoved them roughly away.  No way was she ready to face _that_ before she’d been caffeinated.  Looking down and seeing she was still fully dressed, she huffed.  Coffee first, then shower.

Hal got up and headed straight for the kitchen to start up the espresso machine, almost automatically mentally reaching out to the Doctor.  She hesitated, suddenly remembering that she was trying to give him and Rose some measure of privacy, but not before realising that he was fast asleep.  Smiling, she kept the bond quiet and loosened her shields a bit so that he could contact her mentally if he wished.  Just as she took a small sip of her coffee, she felt a tingle as someone... or something... touched the periphery of her mind.

_Hellooooo_ _!!!  Please hear meeee!!!_

Hal froze, cup still to her lips.

_Who is there?_ she asked with bated breath.

_Me, me, me!!!  Hello!  Please come back!_

_Who are you?_ Hal demanded.  _Where are you?_

_Six,_ said the child-like voice.  _I am Six._

_You are six years-old?_ asked Hal, more curious and concerned than afraid now.  _Where are you?_

_Dunno_ _,_ responded the voice with a mixed wave of confusion, exasperation, exhilaration and fear underlying it.  _What is ‘year’?_

Hal shook her head.  Even a six year-old child knew what a year meant.  Could this be an alien intelligence, that it didn’t understand human time measurements?  Most planets had a tilted axis and experienced seasons, after all.  The turn of a season usually delineated a “year,” even though a standard year could be almost any length, based on the revolution of a planet around its primary sun.  How else might an alien child denote its age?  The timing of key physical growth milestones?  Hal shook her head to clear it and focus.

_Where are you, little one?  Where can I find you?_

_You are close!_ the voice responded exuberantly. _Saw you...hear you last night.  Please come back!_

Hal began to pace the floor.  There was something vaguely familiar about the feeling of this voice, although she couldn’t recognise the entity behind it.  She sensed that she’d encountered such an intelligence before.  But where?

_What is your name, young one?  What do you call yourself?_

_Six!!_ came the reply again.  _I told you.  Six._

Chewing on her lip, Hal contemplated what to do.  _Six_ was a designation, not a real name.  And how would she find him/her?  What if she’d been seen while walking home last night?  Could Six be somewhere along that route?   

_Ok,_ Hal conceded.  _Did you see me last night, Six?  Did I walk past you somewhere?_

_Yes, yes!!  Saw you through the metal fence.  You didn’t see me.  You were looking down._

An image of a chain link fence from an up-close perspective was projected to Hal.  So she only needed to retrace her steps and watch for a home with a chain-link fence along the way.  But which side of the street?  _What,_ exactly _,_ was she looking for?  A child?  An extra-terrestrial?  

_What do you look like, Six?  So I’ll know when I’ve found you?_

Confusion and puzzlement came from the other side, as if Six didn’t quite know have to answer.  _Dunno_ _,_ whined the voice.  _Come back and I will call to you.  Please!_

Suddenly decisive, Hal threw on a loose-fitting cardigan and retrieved her keys, mobile and wallet before launching herself to the door.  “I’ll be right back,” she called out to Sid.  “If the Doctor or Rose calls, patch them through to my mobile.”  

“Understood, Hal,” acknowledged Sid as the door closed.

                                                           *********************************************

A warm, spicy scent with a woodsy cedar-like undertone gently roused Rose from a dreamless sleep.  Prying heavy eyelids open a crack, she groaned as bright light stabbed her retinas and blurred her vision.  Blinking, her vision slowly resolved around a pair of huge liquid brown irises only inches from her face.  Memories of the previous evening, of soul-searing passion and indescribable intimacy, floated into her consciousness as a bashful smile broke across her features. 

“Hello,” Rose whispered, not quite trusting her voice yet.  She felt parched and sounded gravelly, a bit reedy, and slightly winded, as if she’d run a desert marathon before bed.  A wave of contented happiness and wonder washed over her through the bond, momentarily startling her.

“Sorry,” murmured the Doctor as he wriggled a bit in embarrassment, a contrite look rounding his sleep-puffy eyes.  “I shouldn’t project like that before you’ve…”

Reaching up quickly to place a finger across his deliciously pouty lips, Rose shushed him.

“’Es, ok,” she assured him.  “Jus’ need t’get used t’feelin’ ya like that.” 

The apologetic look in his huge brown eyes was quickly replaced with a more impish expression as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.  “Oh, you can feel me anytime you like, Rose Tyler.”  He rolled his tongue about the name in a familiar, yet distinctive, very sensuous way.  An evil, low chuckle escaped him as Rose’s eyes widened.

“Oi!  You’re naughty,” Rose snickered as she caught onto the double entendre.

Propping himself up on an elbow to gaze down on his bed-companion, the Doctor let his eyes drift slowly down Rose’s sheet-covered form.  “I think we established that beyond all doubt last night,” he purred.

Rose felt heat rising into her cheeks, wondering how she could be so coy after the raw, sensual experiences of the last night.  They had achieved a level of intimacy beyond the physical; beyond anything she had ever conceived possible.  She could still feel a barely restrained all-consuming desire to possess her buzzing through the mental connection, and could almost literally see it reflected in the depth of his ancient and alien gaze.  It was as if he could look into the very heart of her soul, stripping her more naked and exposed than she’d ever been.  Pinned to the mattress under his scrutiny, Rose couldn’t help but think of how a prey animal must feel in the split seconds before impending death as it awaited a predator’s taking.  Her breath quickened as desire flowed through her body, pooling in her core and making her skin tingle.  The sheet took on a roughness she hadn’t noticed before, scratching harshly against her turgid breasts as her ribcage heaved against the fabric.  

“I… I like… uh, naughty,” she stammered.  “Naughty‘s good.  You can be naughty as often as ya like.”

The Doctor blinked, and with astounding speed he slipped into a professorial mood and expression, as if someone had flipped a switch in his head.

“Weeeeell,” he drawled pedantically, “Gallifreyans, having descended from a reptilian race, you know, don’t normally engage in sexual congress as often as primates.  Quite a bit less, actually.”

“Reptilian?” Rose asked weakly.  Desire damped down as if dashed with a spray of cold water.

Oblivious to his wife’s growing dismay, the Doctor lectured on, tongue plastered to the back of his teeth in thought.

“Yeah, reptilian.  We’re descended from a species not unlike the Terileptils, hence the lower body temperature and ability to withstand extreme temperatures.  Can even get frozen and recover from it.  Happened to me once, not that I’m too keen on repeating the experience, mind,” he said with a slight grimace.  “But like most reptilian races, Gallifreyan females only come into season once a year.”

“A year?” Rose groaned.  “Time Lords only mate once a year?”

“Oh, no!” the Doctor said, horrified.  “Time Lords don’t engage in sexual intercourse much at all.  No need, since we’re… or, we were… loomed.”

“How often?” Rose asked faintly, not sure if she was ready to hear the answer.

“Looming?” he checked.  “Well, only to replace a Time Lord who…”

“No, no,” Rose said with a shake of her head.  “Not looming.  Sex,” she said with an emphatic nod of her head.

“Well, uhm, it’s sort of a complicated answer,” he muttered, a slightly self-conscious duskiness rising into his cheeks.

“How often?” she insisted.

“Weeeell, studies have been done, but no one is sure how accurate the results are.  It’s sort of like trying to gauge how often humans engage in masturbation, eh?  Everyone does it, but no one really wants to admit it, right?  And Time Lords, having superior biology and all that, are a long-lived sub-species.  We’d have overpopulated the planet as quickly as humans, had we not controlled our reproductive rate.”

Rose sat up to give him a hard stare, clearly not about to give the Doctor an easy out.

“Oh, alright.  About once a decade, maybe,” he capitulated.  “Not that I’m your norm, mind.  It was more like centuries for me.  Earth centuries, that is.  Gallifreyan centuries are longer.  Still a long time, I suppose,” he blathered on.

Pulling herself up straighter to lean against the headboard, Rose crossed her arms in disgruntlement.  So focused on her dismay at this impromptu and ill-timed Gallifreyan biology lesson, she barely noticed the sheet slithering down her front into her lap.

“A decade?  I gotta wait a bleedin’ decade?” she snipped, sounding not unlike a certain mother-in-law.

The Doctor hadn’t noticed the carping tone, really.  His eyes had fastened on her collarbone as she sat up, going slack-jawed as he followed the drape of the sheet cascading down her front.  Her state of disrobement had not been lost on him as he boldly appraised her torso.  He shut his mouth with an audible click, suddenly aware that he was on the verge of drooling uninvitingly onto the pillow beneath his elbow.  Not unlike the half-stupid ape he had become, he admitted to himself in resignation.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said softly, seemingly addressing the cleavage that thrust up over her crossed arms.

Ever mercurial, the Doctor happily showed her he was _not_ your average Time Lord.

                                                           *********************************************

Tightening the cardigan about her slim form as a barrier against the cool air, Hal’s eyes scanned up and down the street as she walked briskly.  At each chain-link fence she would slow to peer through into the yard, garnering several suspicious glares from wary owners.  She cast out a mental net, listening carefully for the slightest twitch of a psychic stir in spite of the painful barrage of noisy voices and emotions.  A bracing cold wind whipped against her, making eyes sting and water in protest.  Undaunted, she continued retracing her steps to a nearby park where she’d hidden her clothing earlier.  Numerous dogs rushed her as she walked past their fences, barking excitedly or menacingly as she slipped wraith-like past them without a glance.  She focused on the tenuous tiny voice in her head, waiting for a strengthening or some indication that she was drawing nearer.

Hal ground her teeth in agitation as she neared the park, wondering if she’d somehow missed the right residence.  Only two more blocks left to search, and she’d heard nothing.  Slowing to a shuffle, she turned around to look back down the quiet street, contemplating turning back just as a high-pitched howl reaches her chilled ears.

_Here, here!!!_

Whipping back around, Hal looked back toward the nearby park and spotted the corner of a lone chest-high chain-link fence at the end of the next block, set back some twenty feet from the kerb.  She broke into a trot to hurry to it, noting a small furry black object rushing back and forth along the fence.  It chewed ferociously at the metal links, whining and howling as she approached.

_You’re here!  You found me!  Oh, yes, you’ve finally come back_ , came the familiar child-like voice, stronger than before.

Hal stared at the furry creature in amazement, momentarily speechless.  She crouched down to get a better look at it.

He… yes, it was clearly a male puppy… threw himself against the fence again and again, determined to reach the woman on the other side.  She noted short black fur with reddish-brown markings over eyebrows, cheeks, muzzle, legs and a triangle marking on his chest, so Hal was fairly certain she was looking at a pure-bred Rottweiler puppy of about 18kg.  She’d guess his age at around three to four months, depending on the size of his dam and sire.  She glanced around the rather spare yard to see if a watchful mother stood nearby.  With no other dog visible, she carefully and slowly reached toward the fence, presenting the back of her hand to sniff. 

Trembling in excitement, the puppy stopped its flailing about and pressed itself hard against the fence, its nostrils flaring to snuffle at Hal’s hand before begging with its eyes for contact.  Satisfied that the puppy was friendly, Hal inserted her fingers through the link openings and stroked the relatively gargantuan head.

The puppy gave a deep sigh, and then relaxed just as Hal felt an electric bolt-like connection to the small creature.  Almost bowled over by the force of the intense psychic contact, she sat down hard on the turf surrounding the fence but didn’t let go of the furry head.  She had left her shields open to the tiny voice and wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of psychic energy honing into her mind.

_Oh, Hal… Hello! Hellooooo!!! So clever, so brave!  So beautiful, my Hal.  So glad you came!_ the excited voice reverberated in her head.

Reeling, Hal stared down into rusty-chocolate brown eyes. _Six?_ she asked telepathically in wonder.

_Yes, yes!  Six.  I’m Six.  I’m yours,_ he responded joyously.  He twisted slightly to lick her hands, never taking his eyes from her face.  Adoration and relief crashed over her in tidal waves as a million questions coursed through her mind.  Hal tried to dampen down the link she had to the animal, which apparently was naturally and powerfully telepathic, unlike most Terran animals.  She could barely see him for the bright shafts and sparkles of light flitting before her eyes in the aftermath of the blast he’d given her.

_How did you get here,_ asked Hal.  _Where’s your mother?_

_Dunno_ _.  Always been here.  Not sure where Mum is.  She left last night with a strange man.  I’m the last one,_ he moaned. _Please take me away!  The woman wants to get rid of me._

Hal scanned the empty yard again, noting only a small blue rubber ball and a bowl of water near the back steps of the modest home. 

_Your sisters and brothers are all gone?_

_Yes, it is just me.  Only me.  No one wants me!  See?_ He whirled around to show her his backside, punctuated by a stubby tail.

_I am yours, though,_ he insisted. _You are the only one who can hear me, so I must be yours. I tried to talk to the woman, but she doesn’t understand me.  Mum says that people don’t want me ‘cause I don’t have a tail.  I don’t need a tail, do I?  Do you care if I don’t have a long tail like my Mum and sisters and brothers?_

_Of course not,_ Hal reassured him as he pressed his head back into her outstretched fingers.  _Rottweilers_ _in America don’t have tails normally. They, uhm, dock them when they’re little puppies._

_Dock them?_ he asked.  _What does ‘dock’ mean?_

_Well, it means they cut them off,_ Hal said gently.  _But my family has lots of Rotties just like you, Six, and we never cut them off.  We think it’s cruel. And our Rotties can talk, just like you!_

_Oh,_ Six said dejectedly _.  I thought I was special.  My Mum said I was special, like her, ‘cause we can talk without our mouths._

_But you are most definitely special,_ Hal told him with a smile.  She rubbed his ears to comfort him.   _My family’s Rottweilers are very, very special, and only the finest people get to adopt them.  As a matter of fact, our Rotties choose the people they want to bond with, not the other way around. But most of them, as special as they are, are not quite as smart as you, Little One.  You’re quite brilliant, you know that?_

_Mum said I was smarter than her,_ Six confessed quietly, as if he might get accused of puffery.

_What about your brothers and sisters?_ asked Hal.  _Were they like you?_

_Noooo_ _,_ replied Six mournfully.  _I couldn’t talk to any of them like this.  Only my Mum and me could talk._

_My Mum and I,_ Hal corrected him gently.

_You and your Mum could talk without your mouths?!?_ Six asked in astonishment, having misunderstood Hal’s grammar lesson.  

Hal giggled.  _Yeah, my dam and I can talk through our minds, just like we are at the moment.  Everyone in my family can do it._

_Can I talk to them?_ Six blurted exuberantly.  _And can I talk to your Rott… Rott…_

Hal’s face fell momentarily.  _Rottweilers_ _._ _Rottweilers are a type of dog with markings like yours.  Ours are even black and mahogany, just like you.  Unfortunately, they’re a long, long way from here, Six._   

_Oh,_ he said simply in disappointment, responding to the melancholy he felt from his new friend.

Hal bit her lip, longing to pick up the fuzzy pup into her arms.  How could she explain to him about such things as ownership, and having to exchange money with ‘the woman’ before she could take him home?  What if she wouldn’t sell him?  How did Six evolve naturally, when her family had genetically engineered and bred telepathic dogs in her universe?  That a telepathic race of Rottweilers might spontaneously evolve on Pete’s World seemed like far too much of a coincidence.

The urge to climb over the fence and abscond with him was strong.  But she knew without a doubt that she would not leave this most miraculous creature behind.  She told herself it was a mystery she needed to solve, yet knew it was much more than that.  She felt protectiveness toward the young pup almost immediately.

_She’s coming!_ Six whispered with a fresh bout of trembling.  He looked back toward the rear door of the residence, ears plastered against his wide head in dread.

_I need to talk to her_ , Hal told him as she climbed to her feet.  Six whimpered and pushed his body against the fence, wide brown eyes pleading with Hal to do something.

“Oi!” yelled a gruff voice from the door as it slammed open.  “Wotcha doin’ wid me dog?!?”

A rotund woman in a ratty, cheap pink robe, numerous pulled threads forming sticky-uppy loops scattered over the surface, stood in the doorway with hand on hip.  Large multi-coloured rollers jutted from her obviously dyed hair; a burning cigarette hung tenuously from the fingers of her free hand.  She was wearing a pair of disgustingly filthy… formerly fuzzy… slippers that made Hal’s skin crawl as she wondered if they’d ever been laundered.  It was impossible to tell what colour the slippers had been.  Her determination not to leave Six with this woman solidified into a titanium-hard resolution.  Hal decided to cut to the chase.

“How much for the puppy?” Hal demanded.

“Ain’t for sale, lady,” the woman sniffed.  “Under contract t’be sold already t’pet shop down the street.”

“Pet shop?” roared Hal.  “You’re selling him to a _pet store_?!  Are you crazy?”

“Eh, what’s it t’ya?  Ya can buy ‘im from t’store iffen ya want ‘im that bad.”

Hal looked down at Six, who was cowering at the loud altercation, but who didn’t seem to understand the gist of it.  Reining in her anger, Hal took a deep breath and pulled herself into a regal stance.  This was not the time to antagonise the opponent.  Her best odds came from appealing to the woman’s palpable avarice.  If she would sell one of her puppies to a pet shop, improving the breed was most likely not her primary motivation.  

“May I come in?” Hal asked, switching tactics.

“No point, deary,” snapped the woman as she reached to shut the door.  “Told ya… under contract.”

“I’ll pay you double what the pet store offered,” Hal yelped quickly before the door could close.

The door stopped just short of closing completely, pudgy fingers still grasping the edge of the door near the knob.  A few seconds later, the door creaked open.

“Getting’ fifteen hundred quid for the litt’l bugger,” the woman told her with a disingenuous sneer, baring stained teeth.  She gave Hal an appraising look.  “Ya got that kinda money on ya?  Make it thirty-five hundred, cash, an’ ya got yerself a dog, lady.”

Hal knew there was no way a pet shop would pay fifteen hundred for a puppy from a backyard breeder, but she was desperate.  She whipped her pad of bank cheques from her cardigan pocket.

“Oi, ain’t takin’ no cheques!” thundered the woman in indignation.  Whoddya take me for?”

“Of course not,” Hal grinned mildly.  But if you’ll wait about an hour, I can bring you the cash as soon as I walk to the bank.”

The woman squinted a warning.

“Ye got an hour, an’ no more,” she said after taking a long drag from the cigarette butt.  “Bring t’front door, an’ bring a leash.  Gave me last one up wid’ his dam.”

Hal paused, wondering if she could be lucky enough to kill two birds with one stone.  She had to try.

“You sold her?” Hal ventured, glancing at Six and hoping he was not capturing any of their interchange.

“Yep, jus’ yesterday evenin’, I did,” the woman said.  She cleared her throat and spit out the door entrance with disgustingly practiced ease.  

Hal tried to school her face into an upper-classed stoniness, but her nose crinkled involuntarily ever so slightly.  The woman’s psychic aura felt as dirty as her physical frame, forcing Hal to tighten her shields once more with a shudder.

“May I have the contact information for the buyer?” Hal asked pleasantly.

“Ain’t got it,” snapped the woman.  “Didn’t ask no questions, an’ he didn’t volunteer no information.  Clock’s tickin’, girly.  Ya want yon mutt, or not?”

Nodding sadly, Hal bent down to reach through the chain links again and caress Six’s cheeks.

_Six, I have to get something to give to the woman so that she will let you go with me,_ she told him.  Six’s eyes widened.

_No!!!_

_I won’t be long, Six.  I promise,_ she tried to reassure him.  _Trust me!_

_Noooooo_ _!_ he moaned, an audible groan accompanying his mental wail.  The anguish in his deep, dark eyes brought tears to Hal’s.  Six may not be able to shed tears, but Hal could do so for both.  Scrubbing the wetness from her face with the sleeve of her cardigan, she set off at a gallop to her local back about five blocks away.  Agonising howls of distress followed her down the street, stabbing into her heart like hot daggers as she ran.

_Noooooo_ _!  Haaaaaaal, please don’t leave me aloooooone!!!!_

Hal sobbed, but didn’t slow her pace.  Vowing to kill the worthless backyard breeder if anything happened to Six in her absence, she steeled herself against Six’s mental pounding, knowing he would not truly understand why she had to temporarily leave.

“Trust me,” she whispered back to him over the wind.  “You are mine, little one.”  

 


	34. Watching the River Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the best intentions sometimes go awry. My apologies for the lapse in regular updates! It took quite a few weeks longer to move than I'd anticipated. But the move is over, and now there is the un-boxing. But fear not. Those pesky boxes can wait a tad.

 

He was floating peacefully on a golden stream of dancing particles like a multitude of fireflies.  Eyes closed, every inch of him was perfectly relaxed.  Even with shut lids he could sense the sparkling clouds of energy swirling around him, cradling him protectively like a foetus in the womb, caressing him tenderly and reassuringly.

He had never been so utterly content, so blissfully happy to lie perfectly still as the stream buoyed him away.  He wasn’t sure where he was going or where the stream ended.  He really, truly didn’t care.  He was being swept… somewhere.  The sense of motion lulled him, made him feel connected to everything within the universe surrounding him, yet he felt nebulous and timeless as a leaf blowing in the wind.  Like a TARDIS floating amidst the Vortex, existing across all Time and Space simultaneously, part of the warp and woof of all that was, all that is, and all that would ever be, he was home.

Distance over Time; the very metaphor of a Time Lord’s life.  Always in motion; slipping through the fabric of Space and Time like a wraith; a Time Lord lives in the Now.  Tied integrally to the soul of his TARDIS, he knows few boundaries.  No one ever truly dies as long as can he flee; as long as he can keep journeying and never tie himself down to one place, one time… one person.  He need only remain aloof, inert, and in motion.  Seldom did he get it right, but for the moment he felt more like a Time Lord than he’d ever felt since his birth.

He frowned slightly as the movement slowed to a stop.  The golden sprite-like particles had abandoned him, left him lain stretched out over a solid surface.  He fought the urge to open his eyes to see where they went, wanting them to magically return and resume their travels.  But something prickly and scratchy irritated his neck and set up an itch he couldn’t ignore much longer.  A hard and jagged object jutted into the small of his back, bruising the flesh enough to make him grimace and squirm a bit.

A deep, rich chuckling sound rumbled through the air, vibrating the surface beneath him and forming a tickle in his chest.

_Shall we see which is more stubborn, you or the rock?_ asked a pleasantly cultured voice in his head.  There was a feeling about that voice that sparked the beginning of a memory. And it spoke in Gallifreyan.  

Opening his eyes and squinting against the bright light in confusion, the Doctor stared up into an achingly familiar rusty-orange sky.  He turned his head slightly, craning to locate the voice’s source, noting the crunch of stiff hand-high grasses in his ears.  Red grasses.  

Clutching the small of his back and rubbing at it, he sat up with a groan to face the gigantic almost pure-white creature sitting to his left.  The kindly expression on the great lion’s face didn’t lessen the sheer magnitude of quiet power that emanated from him.  It certainly didn’t reduce the wide-eyed awe the Doctor felt as he climbed unsteadily to his feet.  Willing his ever so slightly quaking limbs not to make him lose face, he gave the enormous entity, who towered over him, a quick but courteous bow.

“Greetings, Tau,” he addressed the lion sitting on its haunches while the orange-ish Gallifreyan sun shone magnificently behind its broad head.  Sunlight glinted from the tips of a bushy, shaggy mane that only made the creature more imposing.  Not to mention, strangely and amusingly iconic, although the Doctor was too scared to make any trademark quips about it.  Sometimes he _did_ know when to keep his mouth shut. 

“So,” drawled the Doctor as he glanced furtively about the landscape, realizing he had met the powerful being in exactly the same spot only a few short weeks ago.  It seemed so much longer, though.  “I was wondering when, or if, I’d ever see you again,” he continued, his voice strengthening and building speed into the threat of a full-blown blather.  “Take it I’m sleeping, eh?  Another dream?  Although, I have to say that rock was convincingly hard and sharp.  Really, _really_ hard. Quite real, really.  Not like a dream a’tall…”

_Cannot dreams become reality, young Time Lord?_   Kindly, deep ocean-blue eyes regarded the Doctor with such a knowing look that the Doctor cast his gaze to the ground.  This creature knew him… knew what he was, who he was, who he would be, what he would never be.  Even more so than the TARDIS, Tau knew few boundaries.  The limitations of Space and Time barely existed for him, if at all.  

“I suppose they can,” the Doctor answered softly as a small sheepish smile spread over his features.  His heart swelled at the thought of how a seemingly impossible dream had become reality for him in incredibly short time.  He was _mated_ , truly mated to the woman he loved more than life itself.  The horrendous and maddening telepathic silence within his head, there since the demise of the Time Lords, was now warmed and soothed by the presence of Rose and Hal.  Like oil of cloves poured over an excruciating toothache, they dulled the constant throb of loneliness and despair over the loss of his people.  Ragtag as it may be, his little family gave him something to cling to.  He had a purpose, hope for the future, and the assurance that someone might save him from himself.  

“The Storm must tame the Wolf; The Wolf must temper the Storm,” he murmured breathlessly, glancing back up to Tau.  “That’s what you and Tokos told me, amongst other things.”

Tau nodded solemnly, a twinkle that looked like amusement and pride in his large eyes.

“But…but,” stammered the Doctor, “you didn’t tell me there were _two_ Wolves to that prophesy!  There is the Bad Wolf, Rose.  And then…and then there’s…”  He sputtered to a halt.  What would one call Hal?  The Crazy Wolf?

Tau gave another rumbling chuckle, his mouth opening with a slight grimace that revealed exceptionally sharp and dangerous-looking fangs.  The Doctor winced, realizing his rather uncharitable thought wasn’t likely missed by the immeasurably strong telepath.

_The Little Wolf needs you, as you need her_ , said Tau.  _You have tamed her in the sense that she is bound to you.  She is your sister by love, respect and loyalty.  But you are each now responsible for the other.  She will protect you and your mate to the very end, and you must rely on her to complete your journey.  Protect and guide her to her own true mate, the Lone Wolf, so that she may also experience healing._

“Wait… _What?!?_   Another Wolf?” gasped the Doctor.  “Yet _another_ Wolf?  And who might that be?”

_Discovering the answer to that, my dear son, is one of your tasks_ , said Tau after staring at the flustered Time Lord for a few beats.

“ _Oi_ ,” groaned the Doctor, yanking at tufts of hair and spinning on his heels like a frustrated child.  “What is it with you highly-evolved life forms?  Must you always be so… so _enigmatic?”_ he moaned, yanking even harder.  “Would it _kill you_ to just _tell_ us something, straight out?!?  Give us a clue, eh?”

Mid-rant he stopped, cognizant that his impudently critical outburst could easily anger a much lesser being than the sharp-toothed leonine Tau, who stood only a few paces behind him.  Just when he thought he had the Donna portion of his psyche under control, she just _had_ to come winging out of his mouth at one of the most critical junctures of his life.  Schooling his expression into a slightly more respectful but barely penitent one, he turned slowly to face the lion.  Much to his amazement, Tau was regarding him not with bared fang, but with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

_Well, as you are so fond of saying; where’s the fun in that?_

Breaking into a huge manic grin of relief, the Doctor shook his head.  “No fun at all,” he conceded.  He sobered a bit in thought.

“But if we succeed in returning her to the Prime universe and return to Pete’s World, I’ll lose her,” he said with a sigh.  He watched as Tau crouched down to look levelly into his eyes.

_Nothing is ever truly lost, young one,_ Tau said quietly with an intense look. 

The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets.  A pang of nostalgia shot through him as he noticed his brown pinstripes and favourite trench coat.  They existed only in his dreams and, in reality, with _him_ in the Prime universe.  He nodded pensively toward the horizon where the Citadel gleamed beneath twin suns.

“Gallifrey is lost.”

_Is it?_ Tau asked simply, cocking his head expectantly.

“I ended it myself, Tau.  You know that.  It’s just rubble and dust now.”

_Are you so sure?_ prodded Tau with a slightly indulgent crinkle of his large blue eyes.

The Doctor exhaled sharply and kicked the ground with the toe of his trainers.  “I don’t know anymore.  The last time I saw you and Tokos… oh, and where is she, by the way?  But the last time I saw you, you said I could bring the Time Lords back.  Now, that… that is somewhat believable, but seemingly unlikely even with the help of a TARDIS.  I’m not sure if I can pull it off, much less complete it properly so that I don’t set loose a bunch of power-hungry autocrats into Pete’s World.  But bring an entire planet back from utter destruction?  Are you sure you’ve got the right bloke?”

_You are not alone on your journey_ , stated Tau as he rose to his feet.  _Everyone you meet along the path will assist you, for all of creation is as stake.  Time’s Champions must exist again, for the balance of the multiverses has shifted.  Each of you must play your part._ _You must all succeed, or failure will be your joint destiny._

“But you are such powerful creatures!  You exist even outside of Time and Space.  Surely you could fix this with a mere wave of your… uhm… your… paw?” whinged the Doctor uncertainly.

_Would the Time Lords of Old have interfered in the affairs of less advanced species in such a manner?_ Tau asked evenly.

“No,” whispered the Doctor with an almost imperceptible slump.  

_Then fortunately for you, we are not Time Lords,_ Tau responded with a dip of his magnificent head.  He brushed against the Doctor’s shoulder and neck in a light but reassuring caress, the coarse thick mane tickling his nose and filling the air with an enticingly wild and woodsy aroma, like the sweet smell of a conglomeration of living things within a verdant jungle.  Without thinking, the Doctor gave into the impulse to embrace the shaggy head, throwing his arms around the mane, although he could never hope to encompass it, even with his long arms.  He sucked in a deep breath, feeling the sting of tears building behind his eyes as he drew strength from the giant creature’s calming aura.

“I feel like Frodo Baggins,” he said in a watery whisper into a round ear.  “Why does it have to be me?  Why must I be the ring bearer?  Why does the fate of creation always rest on my head??  Why couldn’t it be the other, the full Time Lord?  He’s the one with the TARDIS and a long life.  I’ve got, what?… five or six decades, if I’m lucky?  Part of that exceedingly short time I’ll need to grow a TARDIS, and even then she’ll be too young to be very powerful.  Probably a decade more.”

Tau drew back slightly before planting a moist kiss to the Doctor’s forehead with only the tip of his rough tongue.

_Much may happen in five or six decades, young one,_ Tau told him kindly.  _Look to what you have accomplished in only a few short weeks. You have the best of both worlds. All that made the Time Lords great resides within you.  All that makes the human race collectively brilliant and enduring you have inherited.  You are singularly unique, the only one of your kind, and the chosen mate of the Bad Wolf.  Neither of you have scratched the surface of the Power within either of you.  Joined, you have the ability to do unimaginably great good… or unimaginably great evil.  The choice is entirely yours._

Swallowing hard, the Doctor looked into the deep blue eyes of his alien benefactor.  He could see his own reflection there, frightened and so small in comparison.

“I… I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so incredibly weak and unimportant in my entire life.  Or as scared,” he admitted.

_And yet, no one else may complete this journey, John Noble Smith,_ intoned Tau solemnly.  _You are the Doctor, the Great Physician.  No one else can heal the wounds in Time. Not even he from whom you were derived may complete this task._

“Then, I guess I’d best get on with it,” the Doctor said shakily in resignation.

_You have already planted the seed of your success; the journey has already begun_ , stated Tau.  Drawing a deep breath, his sides inflating like enormous bellows, he blew at the Doctor’s feet.

He gasped as Tau receded from his view; or rather, the Doctor was moving rapidly away, accelerating into the sky as the ground dropped below him.  It didn’t feel like acceleration, but more like he was encapsulated into the puff of air exhaled by the lion.  Carried on the wind, he heard Tau’s final words as his giant form quickly disappeared into the distance.

_Remember, young Defender of Time; we are always with you.  Remember that a message is not always in words, and to let the Bad Wolf be your conscience.  Farewell, until we meet again…_

Suddenly, a cloud of golden lights, like huon particles from the heart of the TARDIS, surrounded him as if in a joyful greeting.  They danced about his head and swirled around his body as he was carried along on the breeze. A song arose, ancient and as soothing as a lullaby, so much like that of his old TARDIS that it brought a mist to his eyes.  His lids drifted closed as he was borne along another stream of light and energy, surrendering himself to the song and gentle motion.  Once again at peace, he reached out along the always-present chord that connected him to his beloved, causing it to flare alive with a pulsing, electric current of welcoming love, want and need.

A loud rapping noise rudely interrupted his reverie, much to his chagrin.  Four knocks, insistent and woody-sounding, begged audience as the song faded into the background.

“Go ‘way,” he muttered, a frown starting to crinkle his forehead.

_RAP — RAP — RAP — RAP_ , came the response. Obviously, someone was not taking a hint.

He opened his eyes with a sigh of disgust, only to stare transfixed by the vision in front of him.

The luminous face of Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth, his life mate, lay less than a hand’s breadth from his face. Dark blonde strands of fine hair cascaded messily around her head like a halo.  Her lips, slightly parted, were kiss-swollen and as red as a pomegranate.  Lids closed in quiet repose, she looked like a sleeping angel.  

She was also glowing with a golden light; a light that didn’t come from the brightly-lit windows on either side of the bed.  He reached out to gently touch the contours of her face when the rapping at the door became an almost violent nailing, like from a closed fist. Only then did Rose stir, frowning slightly before giving a low groan and turning her back to him.

Angered, the Doctor leapt to his feet with a feral growl.  Stalking to the door, he yanked it open, ready to give whoever had disturbed his Rose a piece of his mind.  

“What?!?” he shouted indignantly at the man behind the door, breathing heavily as if he’d run a mile.  

Surprised, the proprietor jumped back at the shout and enraged look on his boarder’s face, then paled further as his gaze dropped.  With a gasp, he rolled his eyes demurely toward the ceiling as his cheeks flared to a speckled red.

“S-s-so, so sorry to... uhm… b-bother you, D-doctor Smith.  It’s… it is just that… it is five minutes after ch-check-out time, and… well… you only paid for… uhm, one night,” the proprietor stammered.

The Doctor stared uncomprehendingly at the man, who kept his eyes firmly affixed to the ceiling.  “Oh,” he said finally, deflating a bit.  He dropped his gaze reflectively, trying to decide whether he should pay for another night, or vacate quickly.  In looking down, the reason for the proprietor’s averted glace became abundantly clear.  He was completely and utterly nude.  

It seemed vacating quickly was to be the more prudent action, he decided as he strategically moved his lower torso behind the door.  Well, the last time he’d opened his eyes, he was dressed in brown pinstripes and a coat.  How very awkward.

“Sorry!” chirped the Doctor with a big grin.  “Time got away from us, I’m afraid.  We’ll be out in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” he assured the proprietor cheerily.

“Completely understandable, sir,” replied the proprietor with a stiff bow, trying desperately not to cast his eyes lower than the Doctor’s manly chest.  “Your folio will be ready for you downstairs.”  With a few respectful steps backwards, he spun on his heels and practically fled.

Closing the door, the Doctor turned to find Rose standing behind him, dressed in a hotel robe with both hands on her hips.  He froze, thinking instantly how Rose seemed to effortlessly and eerily channel Jackie Tyler in that stance.  He braced for an impending slap, all the while bemusedly reflecting that her resemblance to Jackie was rather cute.

Oh, now that was new.  And somewhat troubling.

“Doctor!” chided Rose, annoyed disapproval written all over her cherubic face.

“Yes, luv?” he asked sweetly, sending a surge of affection through their newfound bond in hopes of placating her.  Saving face, on several different levels, might have been a primary motivator. 

“Didya know ya jus’ answered the door completely starkers?”  She raised an eyebrow in frank admiration, her eyes gliding down his body before finally turning into an outright gawp as they settled on his lower torso.

“Wellll, yes,” he confessed as the blood rushed to his cheeks.  “Er, I mean _no!_   Well, really, I mean… _yes,_ I _know_ I went to the door a bit underdressed, but… but I didn’t mean to do it _naked!_ You see, I was dreaming… and, well, I thought I was clothed.  Thought I was in me ol’ brown pinstriped suit, even.”

Rose burst into a laugh, all pretence of anger fleeing.

“Yeah, you were dressing in a suit, alright,” she twittered.  “Your birthday suit!”  Clutching her abdomen as she fell into peals of uncontrollable laughter, she staggered back to the bed and collapsed.

“Well, you weren’t quite so amused last night!” he groused, crossing his arms and trying to assume, as best he could standing completely in the nude, his best Oncoming Storm pout.

“Stop it!” squeaked Rose, degrading into tearful gasps for breath.  She halted only when the Doctor bolted across the room, leaped onto the bed and rolled her to sit astride his hips.  Chest heaving for oxygen, Rose stared down at him, not noticing that the white terry robe had slipped down her shoulders and pooled around her waist.  Judging by the Doctor’s vacuous gape at her pert breasts hovering just above his face, the wardrobe malfunction was _certainly_ not lost on him.  He had not a coherent thought in his short-circuited brain, Time Lord or no.

Wordlessly, he tugged gently at the belt, carefully pulling at the robe to reveal all of Rose to his view.  Rose followed his gaze as his hands glided lovingly over her breasts and sides in a worshipful motion, his pupils large and darkly needful in their intensity.

“Oh, Rose,” he whispered in unabashed awe.  “You are so beautiful.  Rose Marion Tyler… my wife.”

Rose bit her lip as tears of gratitude began to fill her eyes.  She shook her head. 

“No, I’m not,” she said sadly, looking down at his hands resting lightly at her hips.  “I’m…”

She froze, eyes widened in shock as she stared at her side, just above his hand perched at her left hip.  The Doctor felt a strong blast of confusion through their bond as she tensed and held her breath.

“Rose, what is it?” he asked in panicked concern.  “Did I hurt you?”

“Doctor, look!” she answered breathlessly.  Her eyes were focused fixedly at her side, seemingly at his hand.

“What?!?” he responded, baffled.  He was about to go into a full-scale panic attack now, expecting an alien of some type to come jumping out at them any second.  Or out of Rose’s side, since she was staring at it as if he was supposed to see something there.  She appeared perfectly fine, however.  Not a single mark anywhere to be found on her taut alabaster skin, short of a scattering of lovely contrasting moles and the occasional freckle.

“Doctor, they’re gone!  They’re all gone,” she murmured in amazement.  She reared back and ran her hands over her body, stopping to lift her breasts in order to peer around and under them.

_“Roooose,”_ he drawled wide-eyed.  _“What has gone?!?”_ Certainly not her incredible breasts, which were causing an autonomic reaction he was disinclined to control.

_“The scars, Doctor!_ They’re gone.  How could ya not notice?”

He blinked, his eyes flickering over Rose’s body in almost an analytical manner; a stark contrast to his earlier heated glances.  Heaving himself upright so that his back was against the headboard, he pulled Rose along with him, his mood now one of preoccupation with a puzzle. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” he mumbled.  Rubbing the back of his head deep in thought, he struggled to remember his encounter with Tau.

“Had a dream just before I was rudely awakened,” he said vaguely, “and when I woke up, you were sort of… glowing.”

“Glowing?”

“Yeah, sort of all… well… goldeny glowy,” he said with an apologetic grimace.  “Sort of like when you were…”  He stopped.

“What?” Rose prompted, wanting him to go on.

“Bad Wolf,” he finished plainly.  “Only, not quite as glowy as then, thank goodness.”

“So…ya think it was Bad Wolf?  That I somehow… healed myself?”

“I’m not sure, Rose,” he said with a shake of his head.  “Could have done.”

“But why now?” she asked insistently.  “Why not have done it a long time ago?  I don’ get it.”

He blew out a puff of air in resignation.  “Neither do I, luv.  Maybe it has something to do with the bond, eh?  Maybe it’s a sign.  I dunno.  But let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth, eh?  I loved you with the scars and never really noticed them, to tell the truth.  You didn’t need to lose them on my account, but if it makes you happier…”  

Rose stared at him in wonder, then launched herself into his arms to give him a sound kiss.  They came back up for air, gasping and grinning.

“Rose Tyler,” he growled.  “As much as I’d love to stay in this room for the rest of my life and shag the very stuffing from you, I think the proprietor might take issue with that, seeing we’ve only paid for one night.”

“Eeewwww,” Rose groaned with a giggle.

“Oi, guess I need to work on my pillow talk,” he said, lovingly pressing his forehead to hers.

“Do have a flat, you know,” Rose said seductively.

“To which your Mum has a key, I seem to recall!”

“Oh yeah,” Rose mused.  “Guess we need to go shopping for a new lock.  You know how to change a lock, right?”

“Got my trusty sonic screwdriver right here,” he grinned slyly, reaching vainly for a non-existent pocket.  His face fell melodramatically.  “Oh, wait!  Some evil succubus stole me sonic!  And me trousers, too.”

“Suck You Bus?  What’s a Suck You Bus?” asked Rose, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.  She wasn’t sure if she should feel complimented, or insulted.

“I’ll show you later,” he whispered conspiratorially into her ear.  Without warning, he rolled them both so that he could leap nimbly from the bed.  With a flourish, he gallantly held out his hand.

“Allons-y, Madame Tyler-Smith!!”

“Smith-Tyler!”

“Whatever.  I mean… _yes, dear_.”

 


	35. Me and My Arrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as some of you may have noticed, I've officially run out of Kansas songs for titles. :-) I've switched to some of my favorite songs, so hopefully I'll get through this story without yanking my hair out. Not doing this again, by golly.

 

I can walk!  Lemme walk!  Pleeeeeeaaassee!!!

Exhausted and winded, Hal dragged herself to the next kerb.  Sighing, she sat heavily, using one arm as a tripod to keep from falling face-forward onto the asphalt.  In the crook of her left arm dangled a wriggling ball of black and tannish fur that strained to lick at her face as she wearily wiped beads of perspiration from her brow.

“Could you please stop wiggling, Six?” Hal groaned aloud.  “We’re only another four blocks from home.”

_But I can walk,_ whinged the puppy in a clear telepathic whine.  _Why can’t I walk the rest of the way?_

_I told you already,_ Hal switched to telepathy, not wanting passer-byers to hear her addressing a puppy as if it were a… well… anything but normal Terran animal. _I don’t have a leash for you, so we’d get in trouble._

_But whyyyy?_ _Your back hurts.  I can feel it!  Where can we find a… a…_

_Leash._ _It’s like a long rope that fits around your neck and I hold the other end,_ explained Hal.

_Oh.  Like the rope that Mum had in the back yard,_ said Six a bit morosely, searching Hal’s face for a sign he’d done something wrong.

Hal bristled.  _That stupid woman tied your mother up in the back yard?_

Six gave the mental equivalent of a resigned shrug.  _Mum didn’t really mind.  Sometimes it would trip us.  One time, Three got caught in it and it broke her leg,_ he stated a little sadly.

_What happened to her?_ asked Hal as she sucked in a sharp breath.

Six simply fixed his sight pensively to the distance and sighed.  _They took her away,_ he finally said.  _Never saw her again.  Do you think they fixed her leg, Hal?  That’s what Mum said.  She said they would fix her leg so she could walk again._ Six glanced up hopefully, but could not hide a flicker of suspicion behind his large dark brown irises.  Hal secretly hoped he wouldn’t ask her the burning question she could easily read in his searching stare.

_Do you think they fixed her leg, Hal?_

Hal took a deep breath of dismay and held it, biting her lip.  She wrestled, conflicted, over what to say to the young pup.  She knew he could sense the battle within her breast, so there was no point in lying to him.

_I don’t know, Six.  I hope so,_ she said apologetically.

He wriggled into her lap, nudging and tucking his head under her arm for comfort.

_If I break my leg, will you send me away?_ Six asked fearfully, but quietly.

Hal gasped in consternation.  Picking up the Rottweiler pup under his front legs, she lifted him quickly to look deep into his eyes.  Alarmed, Six gave a whimper as she shook him.

“Don’t ever say that, Six!” Hal enunciated sharply.  “I will _never, ever_ send you away, do you understand?  _Now matter_ _what happens_.”

Six blinked in surprise, too startled and frightened by Hal’s violent reaction to say anything.  Nervously shaking his stubby tail, he made an unsuccessful bid to lick at her chin, missing it by inches.  Hal clasped the rather large puppy to her chest and rubbed the back of his head to comfort him as he wrapped his oversized paws around her neck.  

An elderly lady walked around them, smiling approvingly as she eased herself off the kerb.  Flushing, Hal wondered if the woman had heard her address her dog as if it were human, but she didn’t seem to radiate any concerns about a crazy blonde woman having a one-sided conversation with her puppy.

“Time to go,” she whispered into Six’s ear as she struggled to her feet.  “I seem to recall there’s a pet shop on the next corner where we can get some things.  Can’t take you into Tesco, unfortunately.”

Six tensed.  _Nooooo_ _,_ he moaned in protest, clutching Hal so tightly that she almost choked.  _I don’t wanna go to the pet shop!_

“Sshhhhh,” Hal hushed him soothingly.  “We’ll not stay long.  Just need to get you some things for the flat, eh?  Toys, Six!  They have toys!  I’ll buy you a new ball.  How’s that sound?”

Six groaned and wrapped his paws tighter about Hal’s neck.

“Treats!  All sorts of scrummy treats, Six,” she whispered into a flattened ear.  

Six couldn’t have given a better impression of a youngster clasping hands over ears in an effort not to listen.  Clearly terrified, he was quaking in Hal’s arms as she crossed the street.  Determined to show the frightened pup that there was nothing to fear, she walked briskly into a quaint storefront mid-block.  In the shop windows, small oblong glass aquarium displayed with a few Dutch and lop-eared rabbits, and another with Abyssinian guinea pigs of various coat patterns.  Six’s large brown eyes grew even larger as they passed, plastering his cheek against Hal’s neck as if to disappear.

“Greetings, young lady!”  An affable shopkeeper hurriedly scampered from the back of the shop, eager for the sale.  He was exceedingly tall and gawky.  Almost emaciated, really.  Wild eyebrows with untamed hairs jutted over deep-set hazel orbs.  Hal couldn’t determine what colour hair he’d had when younger, as the grey mixed crazily with strands representing a multitude of shades from dark to silver.  His features were not unkindly, but there was an eccentricity about the man that Hal couldn’t put a finger on.  His thoughts, which she sampled as surreptitiously as possible, were contrastingly bland.  If nothing else, he was simply curious about the petite blonde woman strolling into his shop grasping a large Rottie puppy.  

“Good afternoon,” responded Hal, smiling faintly.  “Might I bother you for a few supplies?  I’ve only just… acquired… my puppy and need a few things.”

“Oh, certainly!” said the tall, skinny shopkeeper in an oily and unctuous servile squeal that set Hal’s teeth on edge.  “We have everything one could ever need for your new arrival.”  He trundled off to the nearest wall and immediately selected a rhinestone-encrusted collar in garish hot-pink leather.  Hal winced.

Reacting perceptively to Hal’s expression of horrified dismay, he halted and put the collar back on the hook.  “Ah, perhaps not,” he grinned meekly.  

Bending and fruitlessly trying to extricate herself from Six’s chokehold on her, Hal sighed.  “A slip lead would be a start,” she offered.  “Also, food and water bowls with stand.”

“Ah,” mad shopkeeper said, lifting a finger up in agreement.  “Ceramic or stainless steel?” he asked as he dashed to a different section of the small shop.

“Ceramic, please,” Hal nodded.  She straightened, and then waddled over by the selection of leads hung next to the horrendous collars.  She fingered a braided nylon slip lead in dark blue.  Six dangled from her neck like an oversized talisman, stubbornly refusing to be put down on the floor.

Moving to the opposite side of the store, Hal perused the bins of dog toys before picking up a rubber pirate ducky.  She grinned and then squeezed it experimentally.

Six let out a deafening yelp of puppy terror at the high-pitched squeak behind him.  Digging his hind feet into her midriff, he struggled to climb higher, yelping and crying as if he’d been beaten.  One of his toenails caught into her shirt and ripped a small hole before she grasped him by the scruff of the neck with both hands to pull him away.

“Jehoshaphat, Six!” she hissed.  “That hurt!”

She sat the now silent pup on the floor.  Cowed by her outburst, Six flattened himself against the floor and cringed, eyes tightly shut against an expected blow.  Instantly crestfallen and flabbergasted by his reaction, Hal crouched down and hugged him.

_Oh, I’m so, so sorry, Six,_ she apologized sorrowfully. Hal mentally kicked herself for scaring the youngster, who trembled in obvious abject terror.  _I’m not angry with you, really.  You just surprised me, is all.  I’d never hit you!  Is that what you thought?  That I’d actually hit you?!?_

_I’m sorry I was bad, Hal,_ whined Six, who finally looked up plaintively.

Hal felt her face flush in inarticulate rage.  Her first thought was to go back to the backyard breeder’s home and deck her, but the urgent need to get Six safely home prevailed.

_You weren’t bad, Six,_ she mentally spat out.  _That dreadful woman was!  No one will ever hit you again, do you hear?_

She caressed Six’s broad head before slipping the lead loosely about his neck, then straightened.

“Not quite properly socialised, is he?” asked the shopkeeper in a stage whisper, clutching two white ceramic bowls tightly in his hands.  A stand with two round holes was tucked under his arm.

“He’s fine,” growled Hal.  “He’s just been neglected and abused.”

“Yes, that seems quite apparent,” the man nodded sadly.  Reaching into his pocket, he handed her a pair of shiny new nail clippers.  “You’ll need these, as well.  His nails are in desperate need of attention.”

“Thank you,” Hal said quietly, starting to calm.  

“Madam, if I may be so bold… You do know he is from a rather large and powerful breed, yes?” ventured the stooped man tentatively.

“Yes,” Hal answered stiffly.  “My family has kept Rottweilers for decades.  He will be fine.”

“Ah, excellent,” he breathed in relief.  “Then he’s in the right hands.  You’d not believe how many inexperienced owners seek my advice when their cute, fluffy puppy turns into a massive and unruly brute.  They seem to think that a choke or pinch collar is the answer to a lack of training.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Hal bristled.

“Oh, of course not,” he simpered with a deprecating grin.  “He looks like a perfectly good, if not rather large, example of the breed.  Pity about the tail.”

Hal suppressed the growl that was rolling up from her diaphragm, thinking of how this man’s gob was almost as bad as her brother’s.  A pang of longing dampened her ire as she bagged several handfuls of treats from another bin.  It amazed her that she’d grown accustomed to that familiar presence in the back of her mind.  A presence that she missed terribly.

A few minutes later, she walked slowly from the shop laden with two canvas bags of pet supplies.  She watched carefully as Six experimentally paced at her side trying to accommodate the unfamiliar feel of the nylon braid around his neck.  At times he would move too far ahead or drift behind, coughing as the lead tightened uncomfortably about his trachea.  He quickly learned the limited range of the leash and to keep slack in the line by matching Hal’s movements.  Six gave her a big doggy grin, tongue lolling, by the time they reached her flat a few blocks later.

_Hal?_ he asked as they reach the top of the stairs.  _Could I have a proper name?  You know, like you have?_

Hal smiled as she placed her hand on the security plate.  _I was actually thinking about that, Six.  Would you like for me to choose a name for you?_

_Yes!  That would be grand,_ Six said exuberantly. _Something nice, not too stupid._

_Let me think about it,_ Hal said with a smile.  _I’m sure we’ll come up with something worthy of a most unique Rottweiler like yourself.  What was your mother’s name?_

_Queenie._ _She hated it._

_I can see why,_ Hal said with an eye-roll. _Rex and Fido are right out.  Baron was the name of our first talking Rottie.  Baron Gerhardt von Forbin, actually.  We called him “Bear” for short.  His son was Maximilian.  I called him Max,_ she said sadly.

_Does Max live with you?_ He could sense a melancholic reticence in Hal that almost answered his innocent question.

_Not anymore,_ Hal said with a slight headshake.  _He… passed away some time ago._

_Oh._ Six followed her into the doorway, wondering where exactly Max had gone.  He sensed from Hal’s answer that wherever Max had passed onto, he wasn’t coming back.  Yet, reassuringly, he could tell from Hal’s mournful looks that she wouldn’t have sent him away.

“Sid,” Hal called out as they entered the tiny flat, “meet Six.  Well, it’s Six for now, anyway.  And you won’t believe this…”

******************************************

Rose rang Pete on the cab back to Torchwood Three, holding her breath as the phone rang on the other side.

_Is he mad,_ asked the Doctor anxiously through the bond, although his question was far more of a statement.  He slouched down into the backseat, clasping Rose’s other hand as if it were a lifeline.  His hearing was acute enough to hear the ringing from his position next to her, but his nerves demanded that the silence be broken, even if with a stupid question.

_Not answering yet_ , she replied, a look of worry on her face while staring at the floorboard.  Her voice caught at the soft snick on the other end.

“About bloody time!” shouted Pete Tyler’s voice over the mobile.  Even the cabbie jumped at the outburst.

“Sorry, Dad.  We, uhm… well,” began Rose, shooting nervous glances at the Doctor.

“Never mind,” interrupted Pete mercifully.  “I knew where you were at all times, an’ I could guess at what you were doing.  Whatever it was, don’t tell me ‘cause I really don’t wanna know.  Now, Jackie, that’s another thing altogether.  Good luck with that.”

“You knew,” said Rose in a small voice, giving the Doctor a wide-eyed look.  

“Of course I knew.  An’ to be honest, me an’ Jacks were anticipating it.  But you know, you _could_ have sent your Mum a text or somethin’ to let her know you were stayin’ overnight an’ were alright.  She sent me on recon to Cardiff before noon.”

Disengaging her free hand from the Doctor’s, a mortified Rose half-covered her blazing face as the Doctor squirmed uncomfortably.  “Oh my God, _Mum knows?”_ gasped Rose.

“Oh, dear Rassilon, she’s going to kill me,” groaned the Doctor.  He was fairly sure his twin in Prime had been rocked off his jump seat by the last thunderous slap Jackie had delivered him.

“I heard that, Doctor,” chuckled Pete.  “An’ yeah, she knows.  She jus’ doesn’t know how far that bondin’ thing goes.  Had to tell her the reason why the two of ya snuck off, or she’d have been on the first train to Cardiff herself.  You can thank me later.”

The very thought of meeting an unannounced Jackie Tyler at their door, _au naturel_ at that, was enough to make the Doctor pucker up.  Regeneration was not an option.  He bent and addressed the mobile.

“ _Amnesty!_   I need protection, Pete!”

“Harkness can be your bodyguard.  Jacks sent him packing, too.”

“Jack came back with you?” Rose asked excitedly.  “He’s here?”

“Get over here as quick as you can, an’ we’ll talk on the plane home,” said Pete.  The Doctor could easily visualise how mirthful Pete was back in Torchwood.  He had to be enjoying this.

“Jus’ got here, Dad.  We’ll see you in a minute,” said Rose, grabbing her _Hello Kitty_ bag as the cab pulled up to the kerb.  Ringing off, she turned to the Doctor.

“Don’t worry, she won’t kill you.  Sometimes I think she likes you best,” grinned Rose.

“That was before I shagged her daughter six ways to Sunday,” he quipped with a dubious twitch at the corner of his mouth.  “Don’t forget what linear creatures humans are.  Your Mum expected us to date a bit, me to give you a ring, and us to have a lavish wedding of the century.  As usual, I did it all backwards.”

Rose fixed him with a cheeky grin, tongue peeking out between her teeth as she scooted out of the cab.  “But you do backwards so well,” she purred before running out onto the plaza pedestrian way, leaving him suddenly hot, bothered, and stuck with paying the cabbie.

The plane trip home seemed surreal to the Doctor.  So much had changed in a mere 24 hours.  The warm buzz of Rose’s mind in the back of his head filled him with an indescribable joy.  He wanted to pinch himself every few minutes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, although the experience was too sharp and time passed too contiguously to be a dream.  It was impossible to stop watching her every move, her every breath.  He could not resist reaching out to touch her, as if each second without contact drew his life-force away.  Even as his thoughts drifted away from the erotic, he wanted nothing more than to curl up, quietly wrapped around his pink and yellow goddess.

When he was the full Time Lord in Prime, he had always feared an attachment to Rose.  He was afraid of the power she would have over him, although she had already gained more power over him within a week than any being before her.  He was afraid of losing himself.  But more than anything, he was afraid of losing her.

He had to laugh, because he hadn’t a clue how profound that attachment could actually be.  They had conquered each other so quickly, had melded so completely, that his perception of the universe had altered drastically.  Everything appeared different.  Food and drink tasted new and different somehow.  And as he watched Rose chatting intimately with Jack Harkness, he found not one shred of jealousy gnawing him to the bone.  She was his, and he was hers, and Jack Harkness was her good friend.  Funny, that.  Only a mere week ago, he would have flown into an ugly display of vestigial Time Lord jealous rage.  Or at least glared his extreme displeasure at the handsome immortal.

Oh, he wasn’t fooling himself.  He knew he was not immune to jealousy in that regard, but he also understood, through his bond to Rose, where the ex-Time Agent stood.  Jack Harkness was not a threat, and he would tolerate him because Rose loved him.  To attack Harkness was an indirect strike at Rose.  Jack Harkness was protected; as protected as ever the Earth was by one lone Time Lord.  Flirt Jack must, but it would go nowhere with Rose.  With that assurance, the Doctor was finally able to accept his presence.

A stray thought reminded him of Hal, and a small shadow passed over his features.  Attuned to his feelings, Rose stopped and reached over to link her fingers through his.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?” she asked, leaning over to peer into his face.

“Hal,” he sighed.  “Haven’t heard from her since yesterday when we left Torchwood Three.  I wonder if she’s alright?”

Rose shook her head slightly.  “Oh, I’m sure she’s ok.  Probably jus’ givin’ us space, yeah?”

“Guess so,” he said.  “I felt something odd a little earlier, but we were a bit occupied trying to check out of the Bed and Breakfast.  Like she was angry about something, but it went away quickly.”

“Can you reach her from here?  Let her know it’s ok an’ she won’t be interruptin’ anything?”  Rose blushed slightly as Jack gave her a mischievous flash of his eyebrows from around the seat in front of her.

“Could do,” the Doctor shrugged.  “She was locked down pretty tightly, though.”

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the dormant link he had with the little Torchwood scientist, calling softly to her over the bond.  With a slight sputter, the link suddenly flared back to full life with a burst of joyous welcome.  He could feel how much Hal had missed the latent contact.

_Hello,_ he greeted her cheerfully.  _Was starting to get a bit worried._ __

He could feel the mental equivalent of an eye-roll.  _You were a little busy, don’t you think?_ Hal responded.

_You’ve no idea!_ chortled the Doctor, both telepathically and aloud.  Rose grinned next to him as she felt her link with Hal come back online.  _But we’re on our way back by jet, so shouldn’t be long,_ he explained _.  Did you get the shopping done?  Could use the car back to carry some of my things to Rose’s._

_You_ have _been busy,_ laughed Hal.  _Oh wait… shopping?_ _Oh, shopping!  Crap!  I forgot to get the camping gear.  Great, I’ll skip right out…_

_You didn’t get the shopping done?  What have you been up to, Hal_? prodded the Doctor good-naturedly.  It wasn’t like Hal to forget anything.

_Uhm_ _… well… I sort of got… a dog,_ Hal answered hesitantly.

_A dog?!?_ _In that tiny little flat of yours?  Where the devil are you going to keep a dog?_

_He’s just a puppy,_ Hal replied quickly _._

_A Chihuahua, I hope?_

_Not quite,_ Hal answered rather cagily.

_Well, no need to rush.  We still have tomorrow for shopping,_ said the Doctor. _We can stop by to pick you and the car up so I can drive by the estate for clothes and such.  We can meet your little Towser then!_

_Six._ _His name is Six, and don’t ask,_ responded Hal.  _It’s kind of a long story._

“Hal got a puppy, Rose!” the Doctor said excitedly.  

Rose nodded.  “I heard,” she said, tapping her temple to let him know she was eavesdropping.  The Doctor grinned proudly, and leaned over to give Rose a quick peck on the lips.

“How ‘bout we take some fish and chips over and see it?  We can swap cars again and move some of my things to your place?”

“Ok by me, if Hal’s ok with it.”

_Long story over fish and chips._ _How’s that sound?_ he checked with Hal.

_Uhm_ _, that sounds alright,_ said Hal, albeit with a touch of reticence.

_Something wrong?_ __

_Don’t you dare set a bag of fish and chips down on my car’s upholstery or carpet!_ warned Hal.

Rose and the Doctor both burst into laughter.  Jack cocked his head comically, confused by not having heard the other end of their conversation.  He had always known the two were close and on the same wavelength, even when the Doctor had been blue-eyed and a downright prickly git.  No one had been more surprised, or more dismayed, by the original Doctor dropping Rose off in Pete’s World.  Permanent relationships may not have been Jack’s cup of tea, but he had known these two belonged together.  To see them now, laughing, happy, and hardly needing to say a word out loud, made him wonder if he’d misjudged the Doctor in Prime.  

_Not to worry, it will be in one of our laps,_ the Doctor assured Hal, giving Rose a big wink.  _The one not driving, that is_ , he added quickly.

“Ooh, fish and chips,” moaned Rose.  “I can barely wait. I’m starving!”

“That’s because we didn’t eat anything today, except for some nibbles on the plane,” the Doctor said smugly.

“Ah, that’s right. Stayed at a Bed and Breakfast, and forgot the breakfast,” Rose nodded knowingly.  “Whose fault might that be?” she asked him with an owlish stare.

Fixing her with a rather haughty but unconvincing Time Lord stare down his nose, the Doctor crossed his arms.  

“I do believe it’s your fault, Mrs. Rose Marion Smith-Tyler,” he declared.

“ _My_ fault?  I don’t think so, Mr. John Noble Tyler-Smith.”

He frowned.  “Tyler-Smith?  I’m changing me name again?  I’m only just getting used to it.”

“If I have to change my name, you have to change yours,” Rose said pointedly.

“What a stupid, archaic, possessive tradition that is,” he groused.  “And… and I did not like Rose Smith-Tyler that much, anyway.  Doesn’t roll off the tongue quite right.  Let’s forget all about changing names, eh?  I like Rose Tyler.  Roooose Tyyyler,” he crooned in that idiosyncratic way that made Rose’s heart flutter.

“Deal,” she agreed breathily, her pupils growing larger.  The Doctor leaned in closer like a mesmerising snake charmer, his eyes focused on Rose’s lips.

“And it was, too, your fault,” he murmured, breaking the spell.

Rose leaned back agape, brows knitted in denial.  “Was not!” she countered.

“Was, too,” he argued.  “As I recall, I said something about the average Time Lord in terms of decades, and _someone_ got just a _wee bit_ demanding, one might say?”

Rose flopped backing into her seat in a mock huff, only to lock eyes with Captain Jack.  He’d been silently watching, spellbound by the repartee between the two lovers.

“You’re married!” Jack stated with absolute certainty, eyes darting birdlike from one face to the next.

“Well, yeah.  Kinda.  Well, in a way,” stuttered Rose.

“We are according to Gallifreyan law,” the Doctor told him.  “We are fully joined in a marriage bond.”

“Bonded, huh?” grinned Jack.  “So, congratulations, you two.  About time.”  He looked over to the other side of the cabin.  “Does Pete know?”

“I know nothing,” Pete declared loudly from behind his open magazine before anyone could answer.  “If you’re smart, you won’t know nothin’, either.”

“Ah, so Jackie doesn’t know yet,” Jack said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye.  

“Nope,” confirmed the Doctor, popping his “p” as he slouched down into the seat.

“Awwwkwaaard,” sang Jack in a high-pitched voice.  He laughed heartily as the plane touched down with a jolt.

“Yup,” said Rose as she pulled her mobile from her pocket and powered it up.

Jack grinned, suddenly feeling at home with two old friends, cheeky banter, and the promise of a heart-pounding run for their lives.  Just like old times, he thought.

“Ever thought of moving to Borneo, Doc?” Jack teased, blue eyes glittering with glee.  He watched as the Doctor tugged at his hair, teeth clinched in a fearful grimace at the thought of facing Jackie Tyler.

Yep, just like old times.


	36. Then She Said My Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Six gets a new name.

 

It was quite late afternoon before Rose and the Doctor arrived at Hal’s flat.  Having driven rather cavalierly during a major portion of the trip, the Doctor switched to a more sedate and sane pace a few blocks from their destination.  Rose smirked as he got out of the Porsche and walked slowly around the back of it and then forward toward the passenger door, carefully eyeing the little 911 for any defects before he opened the door to assist Rose out onto the kerb.  The problem with it, Rose noted wryly, was that his eyes never left the car as he held out his hand.  

“Thank you, Sir Doctor,” she said with a slight tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

“Welcome,” he muttered absently, straining forward to look around Rose at the bonnet.

“Y’fraid ya dented Hal’s lovey, an’ how she might smack ya silly, eh?”

He vehemently shook his head.  “Don’t!  Don’t even say it, Rose.  Blimey, she’d do a lot worse than that!”

Rose let out an amused snort as he stepped in front of the vehicle to give it one last go-over before re-joining her on the sidewalk.

“Why is it that ya only seem to fear us women, Doctor?” Rose teased him with a hand on hip; a gesture that immediately caught the Doctor’s attention.  “Ya face down Daleks, Slitheen, Vashta Nerada and a host of other lethal races without blinkin’, but ya quall at the thought of facin’ me Mum on a good day.”

“Of almost every single species with little exception, the female is the most dangerous,” he said dourly with hands in pockets.  “Weeelll, I should say, of those sexually-reproducing species, that is.  And even amongst asexual species that bud, for example, the ones during budding season are a bit twitchy.  That maternal instinct can flip like a switch,” he declared, snapping his fingers for emphasis.

Rose giggled and held out her hand.  “Well, keep that in mind before you let that gob of yours getcha into trouble with Hal.  I’ll betcha that puppy is like a baby to her, so be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” he pouted as he took her hand and walked with her to the door.  “Opened the door for you like a proper gentleman, didn’t I?”  Rose rolled her eyes, but smiled beguilingly.

“Yeah, ya did,” she admitted.  “But next time, look at me, not the car, ‘k?  Was kinda rude to show the car more interest, ya know?”

“Rude?!?” the Doctor exclaimed in bewilderment.  “I was rude?  Really?”

“Yes,” answered Hal’s tinny voice from the speaker next to the flat’s outer door.  “That’s you; rude but not ginger.  Come on up.”  

The Doctor huffed as the door bolt slid open.  Rose followed him up the stairs to the landing.

“Greetings, Doctor,” spoke the disembodied voice of Sid as they entered.  “Welcome, Rose Marion Tyler.  Please place your hand on the pad for identification.”

Hal rushed over from the middle of the living room to embrace them both with a heartfelt hug, then hurriedly stepped back with an apologetic smile.  Sudden displays of affection were still something she hadn’t quite grown accustomed to with Rose.  She was sure she hadn’t offended, but years of a strictly professional relationship with the Torchwood leader were hard to shake.

“Hello, Sid," said Rose. She gazed up to the ceiling, but then fixed Hal with a questioning look.

“Well, he’s actually downstairs, but I tend to look up when addressing him, too,” Hal laughed.  “Don’t worry about it.  He won’t mind.  Oh, and congratulations!”

“Would you care for tea, Rose Tyler and Doctor?” asked Sid.

“Tea would be lovely!” answered Rose.  “And just call me Rose, please.”  The Doctor simply nodded, smiling proudly at Rose.

“Refreshments will be ready in the kitchen in five minutes,” said Sid.

A movement just on the periphery of Rose’s vision caught her attention.  She turned to see a large black and brown head pop up over the back of a sofa not far from where they stood.  Large deep brown eyes beneath rusty brown eyebrow patches regarded her with curiosity and a slight reticence.  A keen intelligence seemed to shine behind the puppy’s irises, as if he was debating whether to speak or not.  Rose shook her head, wondering why she would have such a daft idea.

“Six, you’re awake!” said Hal cheerfully, walking over to the couch to pick the pup up from the sofa.  She hugged him in a tight embrace and kissed his furry head.  Six’s stubby tail twitched excitedly as he lapped at Hal’s chin.  He stopped to stare into her eyes as if questioning her, Rose noted.  

“This is Rose and the Doctor,” Hal told Six as she brought him over to meet them.  “You remember me telling you about them, right?”  Six shifted his uncanny gaze to the Doctor and Rose in turn, but didn’t move.

“Blimey,” muttered the Doctor.  “Look at the paws on him, would you?”

Six’s and Hal’s visages hardened slightly at the Doctor’s outburst.

“Nothing wrong with them,” snapped Hal, giving Six a reassuring hug.

“They’re flippin’ _huuuge_ ,” blurted the Doctor loudly.  “He’s gonna grow into a gigantic _beast!_   Much too large for this tiny little flat of yours, Hal.  What the devil were you thinking?”

Rose gave the Doctor a sharp elbow in the side and a warning glower.

“I’m thinking you’re being a _gigantic ass_ , that’s what I’m thinking,” ground out Hal.  Wrinkles crinkled Six’s brow as his eyes matched the angry flash in Hal’s.

“Doctor,” Rose started in chiding.

“No, look,” the Doctor obliviously argued.  “His paws are enormous.  You can tell the relative size of a grown dog by its paws as a puppy.  See?”

Reaching out and grasping one of Six’s forepaws, he roughly pulled it outwards and up to show Rose.  Before he could react, even with preternaturally quick Time Lord reflexes, needle-sharp puppy teeth whipped around in a blur and sank into his knuckles.

Hal gasped as the Doctor yanked his hand back, yowling in pain and surprise.  Panting, he stared at his hand as tiny dots of blood began to well up from several pinhole-shaped tooth marks. Rose grasped his wrist and used the hem of her jumper to stanch the bleeding, looking startled herself.

“Six!” yelled Hal at the puppy, grasping him underneath forearms and holding him away from her.  “That was _bad! Very, very bad!”_   Six cringed, shutting his eyes tightly and tucking his lower body up as Hal marched with him over to a corner next to the doorway.  She sat the pup down and turned him to face the corner, fussing at him nonstop as she crouched behind.

“No biting, Six!” she admonished him as his head swivelled around to look at Hal, eyes huge and plaintive as a puppy in a dime store painting.  “And especially, never ever bite a family member.  Ever!!” Hal said with a stern shake of her finger.

_But, but… he scared me, Hal,_ Six’s voice whined in her head.  If he had been a human child, he would have been sobbing heaving breaths in between words.  Hal steeled herself against the misery projected straight into her heart, and shook her head.

“Face the wall, Six.  And stay there until I tell you to come out,” Hal ordered him in a slightly calmer voice. Six’s head dropped forlornly as he turned to face the corner.  A tiny heartbroken whimper escaped him as he placed his nose into the angle.

Hal stood up and crossed over to the Doctor to assess the damage.  He was cradling his hand as Rose tried to dab blood away, but twisting and squirming to keep her from touching the wounds.

“He bit me, the little bugger,” whined the Doctor.  “I’m bleeding!”

“You scared him,” explained Hal, not showing a great deal of sympathy for the Doctor.  She reached over and gently examined his hand, trying not to laugh at the comical pout on his face.

“I’ll probably get rabies from the vicious little brute,” he whinged, obviously not placated.

“You’ll not get rabies,” snorted Hal, glancing knowingly at Rose.  She could see that Rose herself was trying very hard not to laugh.  “Hang on, I’ll get the alcohol and antibiotic ointment,” Hal sighed as she headed into the loo.

“You can’t keep that dog here, you know,” he yelled churlishly behind Hal.  “He’ll be the size of a pony in a few months.  He’ll eat your couch!”

Rose yanked hard on his elbow.  “Stop it, you’re jus’ bein’ mean now,” she whispered harshly.

“Look at ‘im, Rose,” he gestured with a tip of his head toward the corner as Hal returned.  “Head as big as an asteroid already.  How can he possibly live in such a tiny flat?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Hal sweetly, holding a large wad of cotton saturated with isopropyl alcohol.  The Doctor’s eyes widened as the strong smell of the alcohol hit his nostrils.  Before he could snatch his hand away, Hal quickly swabbed the wound with an evil grin.

“Yow!” yelled the Doctor and danced away, alternately shaking his hand and trying to blow on it at the same time.  “ _Ow_ _, ow, ow_ , that bloody _hurts!_ ” he yelped as Rose burst into a giggly snort.

“That,” said Hal haughtily, “is for repeatedly insulting Six and scaring the daylights out of him.  And when did you start swearing?”  Next she squeezed a liberal amount of antibiotic ointment onto a cotton swab and advanced on the Doctor, who eyed the swab with a baleful look.  “This won’t burn… unfortunately,” she advised him.  With a deft hand, she smeared ointment onto each of the punctures as the Doctor gradually relaxed.

“When that miserable cur bleedin’ bit me, that’s when!” the Doctor said tartly.

“Mind your language, Doctor,” growled Hal, shooting a sideways glance at Six’s back.  She could sense that Six was too overwrought about her disapproval to heed the Doctor’s invectives.  She hoped he didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘cur’ yet.  It seemed she needed to rethink her strategy on how to break the news to Rose and the Doctor that Six was no ordinary pet.

“So he’s had his shots?” the Doctor asked worriedly.

“Of course.  And I’m keeping him no matter what,” Hal stated with finality.  “He’s not exactly what he seems.”

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor decided to switch tactics and use reasoning.  “So, you do know it’s not really _fair_ to expect a dog of his size to live in a space this small, right?  It’s like keeping an orca in a bathtub.”

Hal chewed on her lip, her shoulders slumped a bit.  She knew the Doctor was right, even if he’d delivered the message rather rudely.

“I’ll find another place to live,” Hal said flatly.

“Just like that?” asked the Doctor, wondering where Hal could go with a gigantic, futuristic, talking computer that filled the lower segment of her flat. Oh, and a very large draft horse of a dog.

“They can come live with us,” said Rose with a smile.  “Remember, we talked about that?”

“ _What?!?_   In _your_ little flat?  It’s smaller than this one.”

“No, silly,” laughed Rose.  “In our new home, wherever that’s going to be.  It has to be big enough to hold a growing baby TARDIS, anyway.  We’ll jus’ have to make sure it’ll hold a supercomputer in the cellar, three adults, and a very big dog.  Oh, an’ a couple of extra rooms for guests an’ collectibles.  You do like to collect, ya know.”

“But… but, Rose,” started the Doctor, sensing he had already lost the argument before he’d defined it properly.  “He doesn’t like me.  He _bit_ me,” he pouted with a vague point in Six’s direction.

“He’s jus’ a baby, Doctor,” said Rose as she walked over to pick Six up from the corner.  “An’ you did scare him, you know.”  

Six’s eyes grew large as he stared hard into Rose’s, seemingly surprised at what he saw there.  He blinked owlishly for a few seconds, then whimpered.  Wiggling, he licked her face and under her chin.  A crinkle grew between Rose’s brow as she gave Hal a puzzled look.

“I know ’s crazy, but ‘s like he’s tryin’ to tell me somethin’,” Rose said with a disbelieving headshake.

Hal approached and gave Rose a big smile.  “What are you feeling, Rose?”

“What’s going on?” asked the Doctor, slightly alarmed.

“I dunno,” said Rose.  “’S sort of like some kind of tickle in the back of my head when he looks at me.  An’ I jus’ get the feelin’ he’s talkin’, but I can’t really hear him.”  She shook her head again as Six gave a little yip, still trying to get her attention enough to lock eyes with her.  “That’s it, I’m jus’ losin’ it.  Not enough sleep last night, I guess,” declared Rose.

Hal placed her hand on Rose’s shoulder.  “You’re not going insane, Rose.  He’s a very special little guy,” said Hal quietly.  “Here, let me see if I can…”

Placing her other hand gently onto Six’s broad head while Six stared adoringly at Rose, Hal closed her eyes and seemed to be concentrating.

“Oh, my God,” breathed Rose, eyes widening.  “Is that him?  ‘S really him?”  She gazed down at the pup as his tail twitched manically.

_I like you, Rose!_ she heard Six say, waves of affection flowing through to Rose along with the telepathic message.  _You remind me of my Mum.  Can you hear me?  Most people can’t hear me, but Hal hears me just fine.  It would be neat if you could hear me, too!_

A huge smile of delight broke out over Rose’s face.  “Yeah, I hear you, Six.  My, aren’t you the smart one!”

“Ww..ww..what?” stammered the Doctor, dumbfounded.

Hal grinned.  “I told you, he’s a lot more than he seems.  And so is your wife, it seems.  Her telepathic skills are growing exponentially.  She shouldn’t have been able to hear Six without assistance.”

“Telepathic…dog,” he squeaked.  “You’ve got a telepathic dog?  And Rose just heard him?”

“Yup,” said Rose.  “Clear as day I heard him.  He says I remind him of his Mum!”

“Oh, that’s just wizard,” mumbled the Doctor.

Hal shook her finger threateningly at the Doctor.  “I picked that up, Mister.  Don’t you _dare_ say it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he sniffed derisively.  The truth be told, he’d almost let it fly out of his mouth without a thought.  But Hal had clearly projected the mental image of a hard slap, and it wasn’t from Jackie Tyler.  No point in queuing them up, he decided.

“Come here,” Rose said as she reached out to the Doctor to pull him closer.  “Bet ya can hear him even without Hal’s help!”

The Doctor sidled up cautiously next to Rose, never taking his eyes off of Six.  He reached out with barely trembling long fingers toward the pup’s temple as Hal stepped back, then halted just out of biting range.  Rose could feel the faintest of growls vibrating from Six’s chest.

“Aw, he won’t hurt you, Six!” Rose crooned.  “He’s my husband…. Er, mate.  Uhm, like a _real_ mate, ya know?  I’m sure he can hear you, ‘cause Time Lords are naturally telepathic.”

_What’s ‘telepathic’ again, Hal?_ Six asked, directing his thoughts to only her.

_Talking in your head_ , explained Hal.

_But what’s a Time Lord?_

_He’s a Time Lord,_ Hal said with a nod toward the Doctor.  _They’re travellers who go far beyond where most people go.  Or rather, they used to.  The Time Lords are almost all gone now.  He and his brother are the only two left._

_But if he’s your brother, then you’re a Time Lord, too?_

_No, Six, I’m not a Time Lady, but it’s kind of difficult to explain,_ Hal told him. _But you can trust him, really.  He’s a good man, just silly sometimes and doesn’t know when to stop talking. Let him talk to you, Six.  It’s what he does best.  Tell him you’re sorry you bit him._

Six gave the Doctor a baleful glance that didn’t exactly reassure the Doctor.

“Go ahead,” Hal instructed the Doctor, who was locked in place and glancing back and forth between Hal and the puppy in Rose’s arms.

“You sure?” he asked tentatively.

“He won’t bite you, and he has something to tell you,” Hal said.

Slowly, at the ready to snatch his hand back at the first sign of teeth, the Doctor placed two fingertips at Six’s temple, right in front of an ear.  He felt a strong intelligence behind the puppy’s reddish-brown eyes, much to his surprise.  An intelligence that wasn’t exactly benevolent.

_Hello?_ he projected in greeting, trying not to send any unfriendly thoughts or feelings into the connection.

_Sorry I bit you,_ begrudgingly came Six’s abrupt response.

Blinking in surprise, the Doctor reached with his other hand to place two more fingertips alongside Six’s other temple.  _Well, look at that!_ the Doctor bubbled effusively.  _You’re not just telepathic, you’re positively brilliant!  What a smart little laddie, you are.  No wonder Hal picked you up._

Six cocked one brown eyebrow at him, his expression hardly changed from its earlier hostility.

_Hal says you talk too much,_ Six stated flatly, causing the Doctor to grin broadly as he plastered the tip of his tongue to his palate in keen curiosity.

_Well, yeah.  She’s right, and I deserved that,_ the Doctor replied almost apologetically.  _So, so sorry I scared you.  My bad._

_You made fun of my paws, too,_ whinged Six, not quite ready to let go of his grudge.  _Everyone else makes fun of my tail, but you’re the first to make fun of my paws.  What’s wrong with my paws?_

“Oh,” said the Doctor out loud, suddenly feeling very guilty about his earlier comments.  One look at his long face softened Six’s expression.

_I really am sorry about that, Six,_ said the Doctor.  He let his real emotional distress bleed through to the amazing little creature, hoping he would believe his change of heart. _That was very unkind of me, and I deeply apologize.  There’s nothing wrong with your paws. Fine paws, they are.  Quite remarkably… uhm… large and… uhm… malto bene!!_

_What?  Malto what?_

“Malto bene!” crowed the Doctor aloud.  “Very nice!”

“You two made up now?” asked Rose.

“Rose, he’s gorgeous!” chortled the Doctor, straightening up to hug her shoulders but taking care not to crush Six between them.  “He’s far more interesting than the dogs on Barcelona, even!  Who would have thought?  A telepathic Terran dog with human intelligence.  That’s, that’s just…”

“Yeah, but did you make up?” insisted Rose.

“Er, well, I hope so,” he replied, looking down at Six still cradled in her arms.  Six gave out a prodigious yawn, then rested his head against Rose’s shoulder as if ignoring the prattling Time Lord.

“Give it time,” sighed Hal.  “You didn’t exactly have an auspicious start.”

“But where did you find him?  Where’d he come from, Hal?” asked the Doctor excitedly.  “How in the world could an intelligent and telepathic dog appear in late 20th Century Earth?”

“I don’t know,” mused Hal, “but I intend to find out.  It seems that it’s a genetic anomaly that appeared spontaneously.  His breeder had no idea, thank goodness.  My family bred Rottweilers almost exactly like him, but the foundation stock was nowhere near as sophisticated.”

“Your family had them?” asked Rose curiously.

“Yes, and even ours didn’t always breed true.  Maybe one in fifty were as intelligent as Six.  The rest fell in-between above-average for the breed and super-intelligent.  A few were able to score above the average human intelligence in a modified IQ test.

“Modified?  Modified how?” frowned the Doctor.

“They may be intelligent, but they’re still dogs, Doctor.  They have no hands, no opposable thumbs and are partially colour-blind.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” he agreed.  “Makes sense to modify the purely human test questions.  But now I’m wondering…”

Rose and Hal looked at him expectantly.

“What if,” he said as he started to pace in thought, “what if, in the absence of your family’s presence in Pete’s World, the intelligent dog race had to arise spontaneously?  Obviously, they have a role to play in both universes.  But what role?”

Rose’s eyes glazed over in deep thought.  “You mean, like Pete Tyler here in this universe lived an’ was outrageously successful at business, so he’d marry my Mum, whose Pete Tyler died when I was a baby.”

“Always knew you were brilliant, Rose Tyler,” the Doctor said with immeasurable pride in his voice.

“But then, they had Tony, who doesn’t have a counterpart in the Prime universe,” she reasoned.

“Oh, but there was,” answered the Doctor.

“Who?” she asked in confusion.

“Why, you, Rose Tyler,” he said.  “Counterparts don’t need to be identical.  You didn’t exist here in Pete’s World.  Well... guess you could count the Yorkshire terrier, but let’s not go there.  That was just the name that got replicated.  But the point is that there’s a role that needs to be fulfilled to trigger certain events.  Without those key events, the two worlds would become so divergent that you wouldn’t recognise them at all.”

“Like President versus Prime Minister,” said Hal.

“Exactly!”

“So, Six here has an important role to play at some point,” said Hal, as she scratched behind Six’s ear.  Six had obviously found the conversation tiresome and had fallen asleep on Rose’s shoulder.

“It would seem so,” said the Doctor thoughtfully.  “Although, I haven’t a clue what that role could be.  Now that I look at him, I can see he has a very complex timeline.  Very complex indeed.”

“Oh?” asked Hal.  “What can you see, exactly?”

“Actually, I can’t see it all that clearly,” muttered the Doctor.  “He’s too close.  So it seems he’s definitely going to be an integral part of the family for as far as I can see.”

“Well, good,” said Hal with a deep sigh, “because I’ve decided on a name for him.  Can’t keep calling him ‘Six’ and he’s even asked for a proper name.”

“Please tell me it isn’t something stupid like ‘Rex’,” groaned the Doctor.  “He’s a unique little fellow, and he deserves something dignified and meaningful.”

Hal grinned and raised her eyebrow at the Doctor.  “Excellent.  Glad you feel that way, because I think I’ve found the perfect name for him.  Dignified, meaningful, and unique, so you should approve.”

“Well, let’s have it,” chortled the Doctor exuberantly.  “What’s the little guy gonna be called from now on?”

Hal smiled and cocked her head.

“Kasterborous,” she announced with a twinkle in her eyes.  “His name is Kasterborous.  I’ll probably call him Kaster for short.”

“What!?!” squawked the Doctor.  

_I love it_ , said a sleepy Six _.  Kas-ter-bo-rous.  Kasterborous.  Kaster!_   _That’s my name now!_

_“Nooo!”_ howled the Doctor, flailing about and tearing at his luxurious locks of hair.  “You didn’t?!?  How _could_ you?!?  You named your dog after my…”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” cooed Rose.

The Doctor’s face contorted into a grotesque masque as he let out a defeated moan.  After a half-dozen deep breaths, he turned to face the overjoyed pup.

“Welcome to the family _… Kaster,”_ he said through gritted teeth.

 


	37. Don't Fear the Reaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TenII reveals his most recent dream with Tokos and Tau, and the trio tries to discern the alien beings' interest in them. Rose has a decision to make.

 

It didn’t take long for Rose, Hal and the newly christened Kasterborous to polish off the bag of fish and chips brought in by Rose and the Doctor.  The Doctor, it seemed, was a bit off his feed.

“You sure you’re alright, Doctor?” asked Rose casually as she fed a drooling Kaster a morsel of her last piece of fish.  A sullen grunt was the only reply she received from her bond mate, who was leaning against the kitchen door with arms crossed.  Rose wondered how a lip could protrude like that for a full thirty minutes and not suffer anoxia.  Occasionally his glances would shot daggers at Hal, who sat opposite him at the small kitchen table.  Rose sat at the table between them, pretending not to notice the Doctor’s childish snit.

He was practically percolating in a sea of rampant emotion, none of which made any sense to him.  He knew, deep down, that he was being unreasonable, irrational, and more than a bit selfish, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.  Terrible waves of guilt and grief crashed through him at the mention of his home star system, making it impossible for him to breathe properly, much less think logically.  He didn’t know what to think or to feel at the moment, and the idea that Hal’s dog would be a constant reminder of how he had destroyed the entire body of Time Lords was more than he could handle.  As usual, he fell back into the default expression of being a broody, prickly step away from the Oncoming Storm. 

“Told you he’d just keep pouting until one of us smacks him on the back of the head,” said Hal.  She had an obstinate scowl on her face and similar close-minded, arms-crossed body language as that of the Time Lord. 

“Well, there’s certainly no lack of stubbornness in this family,” sighed Rose as she turned to face the Doctor, drawing a derisive snort from the doorway.  “Let’s talk about this, shall we?”

“What’s there to talk about, eh?” snapped the Doctor as he launched himself from the doorframe and started pacing.  “The decision’s been made.  No one asked me how I felt about it, did they?”  He fixed Hal with a dark and ominous glare that Rose recognised immediately.  

Hal, in turn, set her chin into a determined point that spoke volumes.  She wasn’t about to give an iota, but she tightened her shields against the Oncoming Storm she knew was brewing behind those dark orbs.  She could hear Kaster whimper as he felt Hal’s disquiet, but she carefully hid the bulk of her hurt over the Doctor’s reaction.  She had really meant to honour him and his people by selecting Kasterborous as Six’s name, but she also had known there was the chance he might take umbrage.  There was no telling exactly how the Doctor would act when it came to the mention of anything to do with the Time Lords.  As much as she’d hoped he’d be pleased, that capricious and cavernous brain of his was once again unfathomable.  But now that Kaster had taken to the name, she was not about to deny him.

Hal took a deep breath.  “Since when did you start asking before making decisions for others?” she challenged him.  “This wasn’t about you, although I was foolish enough to think you’d be pleased.  This was about Kaster, who needed a name.  A strong and unique name, and not something frivolous and trite like Tippy, or Caesar, or Brutus.”

“Why Kasterborous?” he demanded.  “Why my home, of all things?”

“Sorry, didn’t know you owned entire constellations!” Hal snapped back.  

“Whoa, whoa…,” Rose protested.  “The two of ya are the most stubborn, inflexible, pig-headed, daft…”  She sputtered to a frustrated halt, having temporarily run out of abuses to hurl at them. Both Hal and the Doctor stared at her with mouths open.

“Pot,” said Hal pointedly.

“Kettle?” squeaked the Doctor on her heels.

“Ok, point taken,” sighed Rose.  “We’re all a bunch of stubborn arses, but that’s no reason we can’t talk things out properly.  I happen to like Kaster’s new name, Doctor.  I think I know exactly how you feel because you’re blastin’ it down our bond like a fireball.  But try to articulate exactly what’s eatin’ at you, eh?”

The Doctor opened his mouth several times as if to speak, then shut it.  Looking down at Kaster’s huge puppy-dog eyes, seeing the hurt there, nearly gutted him.

“I’m sorry,” he said roughly after a few seconds, but not sounding particularly contrite.  “But you know quite well what happened during the Time War, Hal.  You unlocked those memories and waltzed through like you belonged there.  You of all people should know what that name means to me; that it reminds me of things I don’t want to think about; of things I don’t want to remember doing.”  He swallowed hard, looking away out of the kitchen so they wouldn’t see the moisture collecting in his eyes.  “How could you do that to me, Hal?  Why not just have named him Gallifrey and really twisted the knife?” he asked brokenly.

Hal leapt from her seat, a look of pleading on her face as she walked to within arms-length of the Doctor.  She reached out to touch him, but stopped just short of grasping his arm.

“There’s more than one Kasterborous, Doctor,” she whispered earnestly.  “Remember?  There’s Kasterborous in Pete’s World, here in Kaster’s universe, where we don’t yet know if all was destroyed within it.”

The Doctor turned his head to fix Hal with an inscrutable expression, but he waited silently for more.

“It’s true; I knew you might not react well to my choice.  I chose his name partially to honour your people, but also partially after his own universe’s Kasterborous.  I… I meant for it to be a symbol of hope.”  She watched as the Doctor’s features slowly softened.

“Hope?” he asked softly.

“The Time Lords aren’t extinct as long as you and your brother live,” Hal said.  “And perhaps there were others who escaped, maybe even via the Chameleon Arch?  You’re always running so earnestly from the past, Doctor, that sometimes you forget the future isn’t set.  You sometimes forget how to hope for the future, unless you’re fixated on it enough to relentlessly pursue your goal.”  She gestured toward Rose, who sat quietly watching.  

The Doctor’s stance was slowly beginning to thaw as his processed Hal’s entreaty.  He gazed intently over Hal’s shoulder to Rose, who smiled mildly back at him.  Her hair was slightly darker, her face a little less plump, but she was most certainly _his_ Rose Tyler; the stuff of his dreams and deepest desires.  And she was _his_ in ways he’d never dared to hope when he was the Time Lord in Prime.  Amazingly, she reached out with her mind to lovingly caress his.  

He almost burst into mauldlin tears, turning to scrub vigorously at his face to hide the moisture gathering on his lashes.  She as human should not have been able to claim him, to participate in a bond so deep and so intense as to match him, and certainly not to reach him from across a room without contact and extensive training.  He hadn’t dared to hope for such a thing to happen to him even when the Time Lords existed.  He still struggled to believe what had happened, that he was truly happily married and gained the potential for a proper family.  It seemed unbelievable, but it was true.

But to bring the Time Lords back to existence?  As giddy as he was immediately after their bonding, he felt as if hope alone was a useless tool for an insurmountable task.  But he wasn’t alone, was he?  He looked down at Hal, his eyes huge and questioning.  His mind followed hundreds of trains of thoughts, trying to figure out where Hal and Kaster fit in the giant puzzle.  Why did he keep meeting with strange alien beings that handed him herculean tasks and spoke in Sphinx-like riddles?  How had he achieved a bond with possibly two of the most powerful beings in several universes? 

He melted into an embrace, pulling Hal into a hug as his anger washed away.  _I’m sorry,_ he nudged gently into her mind.  Hal smiled over his shoulder and nodded her head, knowing that a proper apology from the Doctor was something extremely rare and memorable.  “Sorry” was a word that constantly peppered his speech, but it was more frequently an expression of pity, or the abrupt ending of a conversation that meant something like, “yep, you’re screwed.”  She could also feel his remorse over their harsh words, and he projected a hint of underlying fear that made her draw back.

“I have something to tell you both,” he said, wondering if they’d think he’d completely lost his mind.  He wasn’t too sure he hadn’t, to be honest.  Dealing with incorporeal beings tended to instil a bit of self-doubt in the corporeal, after all.  He took a deep breath.

“I’ve met, yet again, the couple of… well… very powerful beings who seemed to have an interest in all of us,” he began tenuously.  “Or at least, I met again with _one_ of the two.”

Rose’s Torchwood training kicked into gear as she looked at him sharply.  “The ones from your dream?  You met one of them again?” she asked.  “An’ jus’ how powerful are they?”

“Well… do you remember me mentioning the Eternals to you once?  How they used to refer to the Void as ‘the Howling’?”

“Yeah, you said they were very powerful, godlike, and capricious non-corporeal and immortal beings, right?” recalled Rose.

He nodded thoughtfully.  “Right.  Well, these two are several higher orders of beings than that.  These are even higher than the Guardians of Time, who I’ve also met on occasion.”

“Higher than the Guardians of Time, an’ the Eternals are dwarfed by the Guardians?” asked Rose with an incredulous look.  “How did ya keep gettin’ an audience with them?  And what do they call themselves, again?”

“Don’t know their species,” he said with a shrug, “but they called themselves Tokos and Tau, although I’m sure that’s not their proper names, being Greek words and all.  Tokos showed herself as a large white wolf, and her mate, Tau, as a positively gigantic white lion.”

“I remember you mentioning them before when we had to talk to Pete about… well… that Ronaldo thing,” said Hal, blushing a bit.  It was not one of her finer moments, she had to admit.  “Tokos means ‘birth” or ‘to bring forth’ and Tau, the symbol for ‘life’ or ‘resurrection’,” Hal recited.

The Doctor nodded.  “Amongst other meanings that I don’t think we can quite figure out at this juncture, but it wasn’t lost on me that the ancient meaning of ‘Tau’ is the opposite of ‘Theta’ — death.”

“Wasn’t that your name in the Academy?  Theta Sigma?” asked Hal.  

“Exactly,” confirmed the Doctor.  “Not sure I want to think about that too profoundly,” he added with a wry smirk.

“An’ Tony mentioned ‘em, too, at dinner,” mused Rose.  “We haven’t talked to him ‘bout that, yet, either.”

“No, not yet,” the Doctor said, “and we need to soon.  He’s got to be another part of the puzzle.”

“So what did they say this time?” asked Hal, looking a bit uncomfortable.  “And what’s their interest in anyone besides you?  I’ve certainly not had any dreams about strange beings… present company excepted,” she added with a wry grin.

“We’re supposed to bring the Time Lords back,” he stated simply, watching the two women closely for their reactions.

“Well, there ya go,” Hal huffed with a vindicated nod.  “You’re supposed to go with me looking for signs of the Time Lords next week, remember?  You’re growing a baby TARDIS back at the office that can get you to Kasterborous in this universe.  Why does it take a couple of godlike beings popping up in your dreams to convince you that it’s possible?” 

“Oh, I dunno,” he shrugged.  “Maybe ‘cause they’re _godlike_ beings with _infinite_ powers.  And they said you could help me?”

“Pffft, that was _your_ dream, Mister,” scoffed Hal.  “Your godlike beings with infinite powers are apparently too arrogant to appear in _my_ dreams to tell me how I’m supposed to help you.  Did they give you any clues?

The Doctor rolled his eyes to the ceiling in mock thought.  “ _Weeeelll_ , not really.  Actually, no.  No, they didn’t.  See, that’s the thing about highly advanced life forms and their interactions with lower life forms; very, very rude and generally uninformative.  But demanding… very demanding.”

“Sounds like Time Lord interaction with us stupid apes,” grinned Rose.

“Aaaaand I rest my case,” grinned the Doctor right back.  “And just to turn up the ante, they said that the disappearance of the Time Lords has set up an imbalance in the universes.  Without the Time Lords around to protect and repair timelines, the universes are falling into chaos.  It’s like an ecosystem with one of its biotic components removed.  Eventually the entire system becomes disorganised and collapses.”

Hal shook her head.  “So why bring the _old_ Time Lords back if they were such an arrogant pain in the backside?  Wouldn’t they simply repeat history?  Why not simply start over?”

“Start over?” asked Rose, squinting in confusion.  “What ya mean, _start over?”_

She turned to the Doctor, whose fair cheeks and ears were being overtaken with a rather obvious apple red flush.  Feeling the heat spread up from his neck only worsened the effect as he became increasingly self-conscious.  Blushing was something he seldom did as a full Time Lord, in spite of having ample reason over the course of his centuries of life.  Not having almost full control of his bodily functions was, well, embarrassing.  But nowhere as embarrassing as what he was about to say out loud to Rose.

He puffed out his cheeks and shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking furiously.  “Well, I think she means… Tell her, Hal!”

“You big wuss!” Hal taunted with a scowl.  “She’s your wife.  _You_ tell her yourself!”

“It was _your_ idea,” whinged the Doctor.

“No it wasn’t,” Hal protested.  “I picked it up from you, before you two were even bonded.”

Rose looked at them both in turn.  “You’re talkin’ ‘bout havin’ babies, aren’t ya?” she asked softly.

“Well… yes, sort of,” admitted the Doctor.  “Well, actually, yes.  But they wouldn’t be the same as the old Time Lords at all, because they’d be partially human.  In other words, they’d be an entirely new species.”  He stopped and thought for a beat.  “Eventually, that is,” he amended.

Rose’s eyes glazed as she absorbed the notion.  She already knew the Doctor wanted children, and while she wasn’t as adverse to the idea as she might have been a few years ago, she wasn’t sure how two individuals could resurrect an entire species.  Or create a new species, for that matter.  She needed to think this one through.

Hal moved in front of Rose, who seemed to be staring into space.  “It’s possible, you know.  Time Lord TNA is mostly dominant, so your children would have far more of the Gallifreyan characteristics than human, even if the balance of their genetic inheritance is more toward the human side.”

“But what about genetic diversity?” asked Rose.  “I’ve done my A Levels, an’ I’ve studied xenobiology.  There’s only one of the Doctor, so how could they possibly survive as the genetic defects build up over time?  An’ even if they managed not to turn into some kind of Morlocks, how many generations would it take before the genetic code stabilised into a proper species?  We’d be long dead before that happened.  Who would teach them how to be proper Time Lords?”

The Doctor crossed over and crouched down in front of Rose, taking her hands into his.  He gently rubbed his cool thumbs over the back of her hands.  “Time Lord TNA has been cleansed over millennia of genetic modification, Rose.  It wouldn’t be as much of a danger if the TNA became concentrated through genetic drift over generations. There isn’t any of the chromosomal detritus you find in most creatures that evolve completely naturally.”

“Oh, right, _completely free_ of genetic errors,” snorted Hal mildly.  “The Master was a great example of superior Time Lord genes, wasn’t he?  Mad as a hare, or so I saw in your mind.”

“That wasn’t genetic, Hal,” the Doctor said with a sad head shake.  “He was driven mad.  But we’d have to ensure that there’s as little inbreeding as possible over the generations, nevertheless.  There’s the human genetic pool we still have to worry about.”

“But… how?” Rose asked.  “We’re talkin’ _generations_ , Doctor!  How are we gonna do anything but see ‘em through the first coupl’a generations?  We’re lucky if we live long enough to see our great grandkids!”

The Doctor’s eyes grew intense and determined as he squeezed Rose’s hands tightly.  

“We will have a TARDIS, Rose.  Think of it!  What’s generations when you have a TARDIS?  We could watch over our children, our children’s children.  We could teach them what they need to know, Rose!”

“At some point, you could move them to a new home,” chipped in Hal.  “Perhaps even back to Kasterborous.  Maybe even Gallifrey still exists in that system.  You could call it New Gallifrey, with a whole new race of Time Lords; Time Lords who will know all of the faults of their ancestors and strive to avoid them.”

“It may even be possible, if their Gallifrey survived, that the Matrix survived.  The entire body of Time Lord knowledge in this universe could be accessible to us,” said the Doctor.

Rose absorbed this slowly, a myriad of emotions flashing over her features.

“We’ll watch our children grow old and die,” she whispered.  She looked into the Doctor’s eyes and saw a flash of pain there so deep that her breath caught.  Rose knew he had not only watched his own planet burn and die, but everyone he know.  He had felt the intense pain of millions of Time Lords in his head, heard the screams as the lives of his children and grandchildren flickered out of existence.  And he had been the one to press the button.  He had initiated the Moment and consigned all of Gallifrey and his people to Hell.  

“Perhaps,” he said, casting his dark eyes to the floor.  “Probably.  I can’t ask you to try this, Rose.  I do, absolutely…desperately, want to have children with you, but not to bring the Time Lords back into existence.  I can’t even describe how much I want to see our love immortalised in the flesh, or how much I would love and care for each and every one of our children.  They don’t need to be the start of anything other than our own little family.  Having a child with you would be more than I could ever hope for.”

Staring down at the top of the Doctor’s bowed head, Rose bit her lip as tears began to well.

“But… we could do both, yeah?” she murmured tearfully.  Placing her forehead against his, she smiled.  “We could have kids, love ‘em to death, teach ‘em how to fulfil their potential, an’ possibly save the Time Lords from extinction.  Who could say no to that, Doctor?”

“You could, Rose.  The extinction of the Time Lords is on my head, not yours,” he said with eyes closed.  “I have to live with that burden; and with you, I _can_ live with it.  As long as you’re by my side, I can live with anything.  You’re the only redemption I need.”

Rose pulled back and gently lifted his chin to look deeply into his profoundly sad eyes.  “Whatever burdens we have, we have together, got that?  When I claimed you, I claimed all that you had.  We do this together, or not at all.  I think we need to try.”

“But, Rose,” he started, but was quickly halted by a finger placed over his luscious lips.

“It’ll save the Time Lords, yeah?  An’ the multiverse itself, if Tokos and Tau are right.”

“It may be impossible, Rose.  The odds are against it, even if we had several dozen children!” he argued, but with a glimmer of hope on his face.  “I’m not even sure if that’s the way we’re supposed to bring them back.”

“Well, don’t know ‘bout _dozens_ of kids, Doctor, but savin’ the multiverse sounds like our kind of job.  It’s what we do,” Rose replied.

Pulling her into a rib-crushing embrace, the Doctor gave out a watery chuckle.  

“Have I told you how incredible you are, Rose Tyler?”

“Urrgh!  Make sure you’re tellin’ me that when the labour pains hit,” groaned Rose.  “Can’t promise I’ll return the compliment then.”

Hal held a finger high in the air to get their attention.  “Uhm, I suppose I could be a sort of _au pair_ for a while,” she ventured.  “That is, if you’re planning on starting the baby factory fairly soon.  And what if you find some non-Time Lord Gallifreyans out there?  You know, unrefined Time Lords, I suppose you could say.   Perhaps they might be willing to help, should we find them?”

“Brilliant idea,” the Doctor said, deep in thought.  “From a purely eugenics standpoint, that would probably shorten the process considerably, due to the compatibility of the TNA.  But there’s one little sticky wicket with that…”

“They didn’t like Time Lords,” laughed Hal.

“Yeah, you could sort of say that,” the Doctor said with a crooked smile.  “But let’s just say that, as a time-sensitive race, the ordinary Gallifreyans somehow managed to survive the Time War.  Politically, I’m not sure they’d be interested in recreating another class of Gallifreyans that might again consign them to the _plebeian classes_.  There was even a group of Time Lords who rejected Time Lord society altogether and moved to the wastelands of Gallifrey, living primitive lifestyles and calling themselves the Outsiders.  If there is a Gallifrey in Pete’s World, and if it isn’t destroyed as it is in Prime, they may yet exist.”

“Well,” added Hal, “we’re assuming a great deal.  We’re assuming that _if_ Gallifrey survived here, and _if_ the Gallifreyans exist, that they have a similar history.  What if they don’t?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Rose.  “Guess we’d better go shopping for some additional campin’ gear, includin’ a couple of dog bowls.”

Kaster, who sat almost motionless under the table near Hal’s chair, perked up his ears at the mention of dog bowls.

“We’re taking him camping?!?” asked the Doctor in surprise.

“What did you think we were going to do with him?” countered Hal a little prickly.  

“Oh, wasn’t thinking, just wondering,” he immediately backed off.  “Guess we’d better pick up some dog food, too.”

Rose and Hal exchanged a quick look that immediately terrified the Doctor.  

Thirty minutes later, the Doctor found himself pushing a shopping trolley through a mega-pet store.  Sitting at the front of the cart, when he wasn’t standing and excitedly yipping at items on shelves that caught his rapt attention, was Kaster.  At his feet was an array of treats, coats, toys, bowls, balls and an assortment of trial-sized kibbles.  A large bag of premium kibble was on the lower segment of the trolley featuring a doe-eyed Rottweiler puppy on the label. 

“Kaster!” hissed the Doctor.  “That’s enough, old chap.  We’ll not be able to fit all this stuff into Hal’s car.  Not unless I strap you to the boot.”

_But Hal said we’re gonna be gone a loooong time,_ he whined. 

_Not that long_ , the Doctor answered telepathically.  He was starting to get the hang of communicating with the pup without physical contact, but it gave him a residual headache.  He was, after all, more of a touch telepath by nature.  He’d far rather be shopping for camping supplies with Rose and Hal, but oh, no… 

_How long?_ asked Kaster.

_Only two weeks._

_How long is two weeks, Doctor?  Isn’t that a long time?_ persisted the youngster _._

_When the sun comes up and we eat breakfast, that’s one day,_ answered the Doctor.  _Two weeks is fourteen wake-ups and breakfasts._

Kaster cocked his head comically at the Time Lord, blinking as if he’d stepped into bright sunlight as his tongue suddenly protruded out of the side of his muzzle in thought.

_Oh, so… one week is seven days, then?_ Kaster calculated.

The Doctor’s jaw dropped in amazement.  _That’s correct, Kaster.  What a smart boy you are!  Who taught you to count?_

_Me Mum,_ the pup answered as a cloud passed over his features.  His shoulders slumped as he plopped back down to a lying position in the trolley.  Placing his heavy head onto his outstretched forelegs, he heaved a heavy sigh.

_So your Mum is like you?  She is telepathic and can talk and count?_ asked the Doctor, not quite picking up on Kaster’s sudden change of demeanour.

_Yeah, she was tele… telepathic,_ replied Kaster, trying out the new word he’d just learned.  _She wasn’t good with counting, though._

Suddenly realising that Kaster spoke of his mother in the past tense, the Doctor pushed the trolley to a quiet aisle.

_What happened to your Mum, Kaster?  Where is she now?_

_Dunno_ _,_ answered Kaster dully. _The man came and took her away.  Can’t hear her anymore._

_And your brothers and sisters?_ _Did you have any?  Are they like you?_

_All gone,_ sighed the pup, who seemed reluctant to continue.  _They weren’t like me or Mum.  Can we go now?_

A twinge of guilt passed through the Doctor as he picked up on Kaster’s melancholic feelings, masked behind an irritable request to move on.  His Adam’s apple bobbed several times in sympathy.  This small creature, probably no more than twelve weeks-old, had already learned one of the Doctor’s most successful defences against loss.  

Never speak of the loss.  If pressed for answers, ignore, deflect, or rebuff.

With a heavy heart, he walked around to the front of the trolley as Kaster followed him with his eyes.  Reaching into the front of the trolley with long arms, the Doctor wordlessly hefted the pup up to tuck him tightly against his lean side.  Their eyes met briefly in understanding, and then the Doctor once again resumed his place behind the trolley, pushing it toward the front of the store.


	38. Time For Me to Fly

 

_This ain’t gonna work, you know,_ whispered Rose telepathically.  She knew she didn’t need to “whisper” really, but she couldn’t help herself.

_‘Course it will,_ retorted the Doctor, although Rose could feel waves of anxiety belying the Doctor’s totally unconvincing bravado.

They stood plastered tightly against the wall at the foot of long stairs leading up to the Doctor’s bedroom, staring warily at each step.  It was long past midnight, and the silence in the gigantic Tyler mansion was terrifyingly oppressive.  One miscalculated footfall on the wrong step would send out a loud creak echoing about the tall ceiling to wake the dead.  And Jackie Tyler was certainly not dead.  She was presumably asleep at the end of the upper hallway and would remain so, the Doctor hoped.

Letting out a quivery breath, he gingerly placed a foot onto the first step, then gradually leaned onto it.  When the step didn’t protest, he leaned an arm against the wall and placed his other foot alongside it.  He sucked in a slow breath in relief before glancing up at the long procession of steps ahead.

_You sure this is worth it?_ asked Rose, whose tone made it clear that she deemed sneaking into the Tyler estate to retrieve the Doctor’s belongings as anything but wise.

_I told you, I’m not wearing trousers from TESCO when I have a whole closet full of designer wear,_ sniffed the Doctor.  He took another tentative step as Rose followed closely behind him, careful to trace his movements.

_Goin_ _’ campin’, Doctor._ _Remember?  An’ you an’ Kaster were s’possed to get pet food an’ come back.  What took the two of ya so long?  We could’ve done more shoppin’ before the shops closed._

_Errr_ _,_ _had to take Kaster to the park.  He had to, uhm… you know,_ he shrugged.  _Sort of lost track of time._ __

_Time Lord, losin’ track of time,_ Rose said with an eye roll. _Typical._

He gave her a relieved grin, hoping she hadn’t picked up on his little white lie about their whereabouts.  Unconsciously, he reached into a pocket to finger a small velvet box.  It had taken more than a few promised special treats to convince Kaster to stay mum.

_You’re awful good at this,_ grinned Rose, giving him a flash of pink tongue between conspicuously white teeth in the dark as they reached the halfway mark.

The Doctor nodded _.  Always count your steps, and always pay attention to which ones are creaky,_ he said.  _Never know when you’ll need to make an hasty escape._

_You callin’ this hasty?_ _It’s taken us almost an hour to get this far,_ scoffed Rose. __

_Don’t exaggerate, Rose.  It’s only been 50 minutes.  Maybe 55, if you count crossing the courtyard from the woods._

They treaded carefully, winding their way back and forth from step to step as they grew closer to the top of the long stairway.  A large pop issued from the fifth step from the landing as they tread on it, reverberating about the house, causing both their hearts to skip a couple of beats as they froze.  The sound of his gulp seemed unnaturally loud in the still air. It took everything he had not to bolt for his bedroom door in blind panic.

They stayed stock still, barely breathing, as they strained to hear movement anywhere in the house.  After what seemed like a lifetime they relaxed a bit, convinced that they hadn’t yet alarmed the slumbering inhabitants.

_That’s new,_ remarked the Doctor as he leaned in to hug Rose.  It was more to comfort himself than her.  Rose caressed the back of his head, threading her fingers through his thick mop of soft hair and thinking how it reminded her of silky cat fur.  There was something unarguably alien and enticing about its texture, and the gleam of chestnut highlights were visible even in the gloomy darkness.

_We’d better hurry, or the servants will be up makin’ breakfast at this rate,_ Rose urged.

With sharp, wary glances about, the Doctor managed to traverse the final steps without further mishap.  He tiptoed stealthily to his open bedroom door, Rose closely behind him, and slipped in like a wispy wraith.  Ever so slowly he pulled the door shut, listening for the slightest squeak from the hinges before gradually allowing the doorknob to turn.  He let out another quavering breath as he leaned against the door, just in time to see Rose’s wide eyes as she peered over his shoulder.

_What?_ he asked in slightly alarmed confusion, feeling an unspoken warning from Rose.  She gave an almost imperceptible nod in answer, her eyes fixed behind him.

He turned to look into the corner of the room behind the door, and did a double-take as his mind slowly grasped the reality of his situation.  With a squeak he jumped backwards to collide with Rose, sending them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

“What are ya doin’, sneakin’ in here like a bleedin’ thief in the night?” snarled Jackie Tyler.  Her blue-grey eyes flashed dangerously from the silvery light that streamed into the window.  She was wearing pink satin pyjamas and a matching kimono robe; her hair tied up into a high ponytail in the top of her head.  That her hands were empty at her sides did not comfort the Doctor one wit.

“J-j-jackie!” he stammered as he tried to crawl backwards out of reach.  Rose gave out a painful “oof” as he inadvertently shoved an elbow into her abdomen.  Quickly flipping over, he pulled Rose into his lap and wrapped his arms protectively around her.  Rose wasn’t quite sure if it was to shield her, or to use her as a body shield.

“Don’t you J-j-jackie me!” bellowed Jackie as she advanced on them.  “How dare you come sneakin’ back into this house after disappearin’ for days with my Rose.  Not a word from the two of ya, either.  Left me scared to death that somethin’ had happened to you.  It ain’t like Torchwood business is a cakewalk!  How do I know that some slimy aliens ain’t kidnapped ya, or worse, eh??  How could you do that to me, Doctor?  Ya wanna go off somewhere an’ shag, at least have the decency to pick up the phone an’ let yer Mum know you’re alright!”  She stared hard at Rose with tears of disappointment glistening in her eyes.  

“N-n-no, Mum!” mumbled Rose as she watched Jackie’s bottom lip tremble, her face caving into tears of hurt.  She struggled out of the Doctor’s grasp to stand and cover the distance between her and her mother.  “I’m so sorry, Mum!  I really am!” she said, pulling Jackie into an embrace.

“Jackie, it’s not what you think,” begged the Doctor as he rose, hands outstretched in a plea for understanding.

Wiping furiously at her tears, Jackie sneered at him.  “You gonna tell me the two of ya weren’t holed up in some seedy hotel shaggin’?” she challenged him.  “What kind of thicko do ya take me for, eh?  You were shaggin’, weren’t ya?”

“Oi, it wasn’t seedy!” retorted the Doctor a split second before a look of sheer panic washed over his features.  Rose shook her head in exasperation, and then positioned herself in front of the Doctor to face Jackie head-on.

“Look, Mum.  ’S not quite like that, ok?  ‘S true, we did spend the night in a bed an’ breakfast in Cardiff, but it ain’t quite what you’re thinkin’, yeah?  We’re… we’re together now.  In a proper relationship.  Isn’t that what you wanted, Mum?”

Jackie hesitated, the fiery anger seemingly dampened as her shoulders dropped slowly in consideration.

“You’re together,” she repeated slowly.  “You’re inna relationship?  What kinda relationship, Rose?  It’d better not be in one of them ‘friends with benefits’ nonsense you kids seem to think is so grand,” she groused with a finger wag.

“No, no,” Rose said with a quick shake of her head and a defensive gesture.  We’re… we’re actually… uhm…”

“Engaged!” chirped the Doctor hurriedly, having seen his millennium-long life flash before his eyes at the thought of Jackie finding out they had essentially eloped.  He was quite certain Rose would survive Jackie’s wrath to become a widow, but his chances were next to nil.

“Engaged?” scoffed Jackie, narrowing her eyes at the Doctor.  “That quick?  The two of ya were barely speakin’ jus’ days ago.”  Her eyes shifted to Rose’s left hand.  “An’ if you’re engaged, where’s the bleedin’ ring, Doctor?  Who asks a girl to marry ‘im without a ring?”

Rose stiffened and shook her hands in a fluster as she tried to think of a quick response.  “Oh, well,” she sputtered, “it was so quick, an’…”

The Doctor grasped her fluttering hands, pulling Rose around to face him before dropping to a knee in front of her.

“I didn’t want to take a chance that you’d change your mind, but now I’d like to do this properly,” he said quietly.  His eyes were huge and round as he reached into his pocket, producing a small crimson velvet box.  Both Rose and Jackie gasped as he carefully opened the clamshell and presented it to Rose.  

Within the box glittered a blindingly clear multi-faceted round stone.  It appeared to be about two and a half caret in weight, exquisitely cut and mounted on an ornate, beautifully filigreed platinum-coloured setting.  The filigree was delicate and light, comprised of overlapping threaded circles, reminiscent of Gallifreyan script, that allowed light to shift unimpeded through the impossibly transparent heart of the jewel.  It had far more facets than any terrestrial diamond, and it threw beams of dancing sparkles even in the dimness of the unlit room.

“Rose Marion Tyler,” said the Doctor solemnly, “would you honour me by becoming my wife, sharing my eternity, my heart, my soul, and all that I have, for as long as we both live?”

“Yes!” squeaked Rose, suddenly realising that she’d not taken a breath since the Doctor reached into his pocket for the ring.  She gasped in delight before wrapping her arms around the kneeling Time Lord and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

“Oh, Doctor!” sighed Jackie, clearly moved by the couple, who seemed to have forgotten she was standing there.  Unable to resist, Jackie flipped the light switch on the wall, flooding the Doctor’s bedroom with light so that she could crouch down to take a closer look at the ring held in the Doctor’s hand behind Rose’s back, still in the box.

“Oi, that’s the biggest diamond I’ve ever _seen_ _!_ ” exclaimed Jackie, craning her neck to view the stone from several sides.

Rose and the Doctor broke from their kiss and squinted at the room’s brightness.  The Doctor rose and took the ring from its slot in the velvet box.

“May I?” he asked Rose, eyes glistening with emotion.  She gave him a toothy smile before holding out her splayed fingers to accept the ring.  He gingerly slid the ring onto her finger, wiggling it slightly past her knuckle as she watched.  Once snugly in place, he lifted her hand to give it a gentle kiss.

“It’s a White-Point Star,” murmured the Doctor as he straightened.  “Only found on Gallifrey, so it’s unique to this planet, just as you are.  No ordinary carbon-based diamond for my Rose!”

Hearts filled, they moved to embrace again, only to be startled by a loud squeak.  It rose into a crescendo of an all-out wail as Jackie launched into a tearful display of maternal joy.

“Mum… what’s wrong?” asked Rose, not sure if her mother was about to lapse into another tirade.

“My baby is getting’ married,” sniffled Jackie, black mascara starting to run down her cheeks in rivulets. 

The Doctor hesitated.  “That’s good, right?” he ventured, tensed to run at a moment’s notice.  “And you wear mascara to bed, Jackie?!?  Or were you waiting up for us?” 

The door swung open very hesitantly, forcing Rose and the Doctor to retreat slightly.  Behind it stood Pete Tyler, crouched down suspiciously and eyes shifting to see through the one foot opening.

“Is everything alright in there?” he asked, not able to see Jackie still hovering behind the door.  “Did I hear Jackie in there?  Jacks?”

Jackie yanked the door open, forcing Pete to stagger into the room slightly, trying hard to keep his dignity by not flinching.  He was dressed in a pair of dark blue striped pyjamas, much to the Doctor’s approval.

“My baby is gettin’ married, Pete!  Lookit the rock she’s wearin’.  Put it on her right in front of me, he did!”

Pete fixed the Doctor with a sharp look as he assumed an air of mild surprise for Jackie’s sake.  “Oh, how wonderful,” he said.  “Congratulations, the two of you.  Glad you were kind enough to hold off on the occasion so Jacks could have a part in it, even if it’s after midnight.”

Coughing politely into his hand, the Doctor gave Pete an apologetic smile.  “Sorry about that, Pete.  Just picked up the ring from the jeweller’s this evening, and was trying to think of a good time to present it to Rose.  Didn’t quite plan it out this way, but I suppose now was as good a time as any.”

Rose, grinning broadly, held her hand out to Pete to show him the ring.  Whistling, Pete gave the Doctor an appraising look as he drew Rose’s hand nearer.  “My, my, my,” he exclaimed, “that’s quite a pretty little bauble you’ve got there,” he said to Rose.  “It looks flawless.”

“It is flawless,” nodded the Doctor.  “It’s a White-Point Star from Gallifrey.  I brought a handful of them with me from the TARDIS.  Most are only industrial quality, but that one was the best of the bunch.  I was arranging to have it mounted when you called us to Cardiff.  Had to pay the jeweller a little extra not to look too closely. I told him it was moissanite so he wouldn’t think it was very valuable.”

“It’s shinier than any diamond I’ve ever seen,” cooed Jackie.

“That’s because it’s _not_ a diamond, Jackie,” huffed the Doctor in exasperation.  “Diamonds are softer, made of carbon, and can’t be cut into as many facets as a White-Point Star.  A White-Point Star can be used to cleave a diamond like a stick of butter.”

Jackie narrowed her eyes.  “So it’s an _alien_ diamond, then.”

“Yeah, it’s sort of an _alien_ diamond, Jackie,” sighed the Doctor in resignation.

“An’ ya nicked it from Other Him, didn’t ya?”

“ _Oi,_ I did not nick it from him, thank you very much!” shouted the Doctor.  He glared at Jackie as a hint of the Oncoming Storm crept into his features.  Unperturbed, Jackie met his glare with an icy stare of her own.

“Didya ask himself for it?” she persisted.

“That stuff was mine as much as it was his!” spat the Doctor.

“I knew it!  You did nick it,” snapped Jackie.  Pete, eyes wide, gently took Jackie by the shoulders and tried to steer her away.

“Now, now, Jacks… Let’s not look a gift… umh… horse… in the mouth.  I’m sure the Doctor would never give Rose stolen goods as an engagement gift,” Pete said soothingly.

“Never,” hissed the Doctor as he took Rose by the elbow.  “And I think it’s time we do what we came here for and go.”  Rose nodded, a look of sadness on her face as they backed up to move toward the closets.

Jackie stared at him in confusion for a beat.  “Go?  Go where?” she asked.

“He’s… he’s takin’ some things over to my place, Mum,” stammered Rose.  “He’s gonna be staying with me, you know, for a while.”  Rose winced at the poor choice of phrasing, but she didn’t have the heart to say _permanently._

Face crumpling each step, Jackie slowly walked over to the Doctor’s bed and sat down hard.

“You’re leavin’ me,” Jackie said weakly, watching the Doctor as he swiftly gathered clothing from the closet and placed it on the other end of the bed.  He avoided her eyes, still obviously miffed after their altercation.

“You’re leavin’ me?  Just like that?” she asked the Doctor, tears glistening in her eyes.  The streaks of mascara on her cheeks washed away under the new deluge of tears.

The Doctor’s rapid pace between bed and closet stuttered for a second before he turned to meet Jackie’s tearful face.  All traces of his earlier ire fell when he saw how upset she was.  Tossing the duffle in his hands to the bed, he moved in front of Jackie and fell to his knees in front of her.

“Jackie,” he said, gathering her hands into his as he stared imploringly into her eyes.  “I’m not really leaving you, am I?  Isn’t this what you wanted?  And I’ll not be that far.  I’ll be with Rose at her flat!”

Jackie began to sob in earnest, her obvious distress breaking the Doctor’s heart, much to his surprise.  He glanced at Pete, who merely gave the Doctor a slight nod.

“Jackie, look at us,” the Doctor said, holding a hand out to Rose, who quickly crossed over to interlock her fingers into his.  The gleam of the White-Point Star caught Jackie’s eye as she heaved.  “Look, Jackie, we’re together now.  We’re truly, properly together now, just as you always hoped.  Remember all of the hours we spent talking about this?  About how you thought we belonged together?”  Jackie nodded and sniffed loudly as the Doctor retrieved a kerchief from his pocket to dab at her face.  She took the kerchief from him and struggled to suppress the sobs that forced their way up.

“We’re not going to run off and leave you behind.  You believed in us before we believed in ourselves,” the Doctor pressed on.  “What would we be without you, Jackie?  You’re the glue that holds this family together.”

Choking out a watery laugh, Jackie wiped furiously at her swollen eyes.  “But... but you won’t be _here_ ,” moaned Jackie, finally finding her voice.  “The both of ya’s, you’ll be gone an’ it’ll jus’ be me, Pete an’ Tony all alone in this big house!”  

Thankfully, Jackie didn’t see Pete roll his eyes and scrub the grin off his face, or notice Rose let go of the Doctor’s hand to swivel around out of line of sight.  Rose carefully avoided making eye contact with Pete, knowing she’d guffaw for sure.  She bit into her thumb to suppress a chuckle from erupting.

It was no secret to anyone in the household that the Doctor had become Jackie Tyler’s de facto adopted son, at the very least on an emotional level.  Although the Doctor would have been rather dismissive of the suggestion that the bond ran both ways, his selectively kind words and the devastated expression on his face spoke otherwise.  To be honest with herself, Rose knew that Jackie’s closeness to the Doctor had engendered a cruel streak of jealousy that only exacerbating the earlier wedge between them.  But now, through their bond, she could feel the Doctor’s conflicted remorse as he once again took Jackie’s hands into his own.

“We’ll be back in just a couple of days for dinner, remember?” the Doctor urged, his eyes as genuinely sad, round and appealing as any puppy’s.  “We won’t be that far.  It’s only to Rose’s flat, and you know where that is.  You still have a key to the place, Jackie!  Feel free to come see us between visits,” he offered.

_Tell her to call first!_ Rose whispered telepathically in horror.

“Just ring us up first,” he added quickly.  Just in case we’re… uhm… a bit busy… or something.”  Jackie stopped her sniffling to give him a scornful look.  The Doctor puffed out his cheeks in embarrassment and avoided her glance, thinking he could have phrased that better.

Jackie stiffened slightly.  “Are the two of ya usin’ protection?” she asked bluntly.  “You better not make her up the duff so that she’s big as a house for the weddin’!”

“Mum!” yelped Rose, face flushing furiously.  She looked to Pete, who had discretely averted his eyes, and blushed a darker hue knowing he had heard every word.

The Doctor scrubbed hard at his face as if to rub the freckles right off.  “Jackie, I am so not havin’ this conversation with you,” he groaned.

“I’m not kiddin’, mister!  You’d better not, or I’ll…”

“Ok, ok, ok… We’ll be careful,” conceded the Doctor.  He would willingly sign a contract in blood to end the discussion, although a tiny portion of his mind did wander to the thought of a little brown bag of unused latex goods.  Perhaps he had been a bit hasty in dropping the bag into the nearest corner bin as they left the bed and breakfast.

“An’ that tiny little flat ain’t big enough for the two of ya,” Jackie said more strongly, suddenly galvanised by a new approach.

“Uhm, Mum,” interjected Rose, who had tried to let the scene between Jackie and the Doctor play out without interference.  “We’re thinkin’ of lookin’ for a new place soon.  Someplace big enough for the TARDIS coral to grow an’ for Hal an’ her new puppy to join us.”

“Hal?  Puppy?” Jackie echoed in confusion.  “Hal’s got a puppy?”

“Yeah, and it’s goin’ to be absolutely gigantic, Mum,” said Rose.  “Her flat is even smaller than mine.  So, I thought maybe we could find somethin’ with a big cellar an’ a couple of levels.”

“A house?” Jackie said, her reddened eyes suddenly sparkling with excitement.  “My baby in a new house of her own?!?  Oh, that is… that is one of my dreams, Rose!  You jus’ leave that to me,” she said with finality as she rose from the bed.

The Doctor popped up with a look of panic on his face, and then gave Pete a pleading look.

“Now, Jackie, I think these young folks are quite capable of finding a house on their own,” started Pete.  

“Don’ mean we can’t help ‘em, now does it?” insisted Jackie.  “Besides, there’ll be a media circus once some nosy person finds out they’re shackin’ up together.  Maybe you can talk to some of your high-falutin’ business contacts about places close to here.  Somethin’ nice an’ in a good neighbourhood so I don’ have to worry about ‘em every second they’re out of my sight,” she said with an emphatic nod.

“Can do,” Pete said.  “If you two are ok with that,” he added with a raised eyebrow to Rose and the Doctor.

Rose and the Doctor smiled weakly and nodded, both uncomfortable at the slight loss of control of their destinies.  Nevertheless, they knew a Vitex heiress couldn’t live just anywhere, and Pete would be a definite asset in their search for suitable housing and funding.  

A mental image of four walls, windows and doors popped into the Doctor’s head, causing him to shudder in spite of his endeavour to be more domestic.

“You’re gonna get a mortgage,” Rose said sotto voce in a sing-song voice.

“No... no!  Never!” cried the Doctor, vigorously shaking his head.  “No mortgage, Rose Tyler!  I refuse to get one.  I’ll sonic money out of a cash machine until the cows come home, but I’ll not suffer a mortgage.”

“That won’t be necessary,” chuckled Pete.  “You’re marryin’ a Vitex heiress, Doctor.  You’ll only need a mortgage if you buy a castle or an extremely large estate.  Which reminds me…,” he said, scratching his chin in thought.  They all stared at Pete in expectation as he paced.  

“Would you be interested in a bit of a fixer-upper?” he asked finally.

Rose and the Doctor glanced at each other in silent agreement.

“Sure, if it structurally meets our requirements,” said the Doctor.  “Did you have something specific in mind?”

“Actually, I did,” smiled Pete.  “In a far corner of the estate, about a mile and a half from the mansion, is a large two-story house with a full cellar.  It used to belong to the son of the former estate owner.  It’s costin’ me an arm and a leg to keep it in mothballs, so I was really thinkin’ about razing it.  It’s far too big and a bit far for any of the workers here, but if you’d care to fix it up a bit it could be yours.”

“Oh, Pete!  What a grand idea,” squealed Jackie.  The Doctor, on the other hand, appeared quite dubious.

“Couldn’t hurt to look at it,” ventured Rose, feeling the full brunt of the Doctor’s dismay.  “It would certainly be secure within the estate, an’ we want that for the TARDIS coral, right?”

Grunting, the Doctor stuck his hands into his pockets.  “Possibly.  Maybe.  Most likely.  I’d have to look at it first,” he said noncommittally, not wanting to insult Pete or Jackie.  “And we’d need Hal to take a look, as well.  Perhaps this weekend before dinner?  She’ll be with us, you know.”

“Splendid,” Pete said, clapping and rubbing his hands together.  “I’ll make arrangements and have the Estate Maintenance Manager accompany us for the walk-through.  Say, three hours before dinner?”

“Three hours?” pouted the Doctor, wondering why it would take three hours to look at a stuffy old house that was far too close to his in-laws for comfort.

“Sounds good,” grinned Rose with a surreptitious elbow jab into her reluctant husband’s ribs.  

“Make it four hours, love,” piped in Jackie.  “Rose and I need to talk about settin’ the date for the weddin’, don’t we, dear?”

“No!” gurgled the Doctor, face contorted in agony.  He had foolishly hoped to escape before disgustingly domesticy talk started.  The very idea of conversing about wedding arrangements made him break out in spots.

Pete laughed, secretly enjoying his soon-to-be son-in-law’s discomfiture.   “Don’t worry, son.  We’ll be downstairs at the bar imbibing some of my best scotch whiskeys an’ leavin’ the women at it, eh?”  

Some of the anguish drained from the Doctor’s face at the prospect of once again sampling Pete’s extensive collection of top-shelf spirits.  Pete gave him a broad smile, noting that his tactic of offering treats was as effective with the Doctor as it was with Tony, nine-hundred year difference though there may be.

“Thank you, Pete, for everything,” sighed the Doctor.  “We’ve kept you both up late enough.  I’ll pack a few things, and then we’ll see ourselves out so you two can get back to bed.”

“Don’t mention it, Doctor,” Pete said with a kind smile.  “We’ll see you on Saturday, then.”

Striding over to the bedside, Pete clasps his hands on Jackie’s shoulders to lead her out of the room.

“But, but…,” protested Jackie as Pete steered her toward the door.

“No buts, luv,” he insisted.  “We’re goin’ back to bed.  You’ll have plenty of time to torment those two over the comin’ weeks, so out you go.”

“Goodnight, Mum!” chirped Rose happily in support of Pete’s manoeuvre before Jackie could break free.

“Goodnight, Jackie!” added the Doctor with a farewell wiggle of his fingers and a big grin.  He closed the door and fell with his back against it.  “Blimey,” he breathed in relief a few seconds later, listening to Pete and Jackie’s footsteps recede down the hallway.

Rose clasped her hands tightly over her mouth to hold in her laughter, staggering to the bed before rolling over it and his clothing with tears of mirth damping her cheeks.  “Oh my gawd!” she croaked.  “I can’t believe she was hidin’ behind the door for you!  She did that to me once!”

“Would it have hurt ya to give me a little warning that she might do that, Rose?” he groused.  

“I’m sorry!  I forgot all about it,” Rose said as she sobered.  “It’s been so long since I’ve lived with Mum, you know.  She must have heard us and sneaked into the room before we got up the stairs.”

“Or she’s been back there all night.”

“She could do,” Rose chuckled.  “Good thing we weren’t up here to inaugurate your bed,” she said, wriggling seductively on the mattress.

“Don’t… just don’t” said the Doctor, shaking his head and shuddering.  “It wouldn’t even work in that bed in this house, so don’t set me up to disappoint.  It’s bad enough she has a key to your flat.” 

“An’ who essentially told her to keep an’ use it?” needled Rose gently.

“I know, I know.  I just can’t stand to see her crying like that.  It’s not like I gave her fair warning in advance that I was leaving, now did I?”

“Never thought the two of ya would ever get so close, you know.  ‘S nice,” said Rose.  She rose to embrace the Doctor, who squeezed her tightly and lifted her a few inches off the floor.  He didn’t acknowledge aloud her comment, but she felt his agreement through the bond.  At the same time, she knew their fractured relationship had fostered the closeness between the disenfranchised half-Time Lord and her prickly mother.  If Rose had accepted him immediately, would he have forged an emotional bond with Jackie?

_Yes,_ he whispered to her unspoken question.  _Eventually._ _She is as much a part of you as you are now a part of me.  How could I not grow to love her?_

“Let’s finish packing and go,” he murmured, wiping a tear from Rose’s cheek.  “I’m dying to know what your bed feels like, Rose Tyler,” he grinned with a mischievous flash of his eyebrows.

**_7.30 am the next morning…_ **

_“Rooooose!”_ __

“Whaaat?” Rose’s voice drifted up from beneath the covers.

“Your bed creaks and squeaks.”

The Doctor’s whinging met with silence.

“Roooose!!” he whined once again.  This time Rose’s tousled halo of blonde hair struggled to free itself from the sheets wrapped around her.  She glared at the Doctor through slit eyelids as he reclined shirtless against the wooden headboard.

“What time’s it,” she mumbled.

“7.31.”

Rose slumped back to the mattress and pulled the covers back over her head.

“It’s our last day on holiday, an’ you hafta wake me at the crack of dawn?” Rose’s muffled voice drifted up.

“Dawn was an hour and a half ago, Rose.  I can’t sleep with this creaky old mattress groaning every move I make, and I swear I can feel the metal coils poking me in the back.  Can I bring my nice memory foam mattress over?”

“Told ya already, it ain’t gonna fit in this room.  An’ this is a top of the line mattress, so stop complainin’, eh?” retorted Rose.  “I got all of two hours sleep last night, an’ we have a hearin’ first thing in the mornin’ when we get back, remember?”

“One hour,” he corrected her.  “Oh, yeah.  Forgot about that hearing.  Hal should be ok, don’t you think?  Surely Pete won’t throw her under the bus now that she’s to live with us.”

“You’re not gonna let me sleep, are ya?” Rose ground out, flinging the covers off.

“No,” answered the Doctor simply, a big smile plastered on his face.  

The sound of the Doctor’s mobile caused them both to jump as it jangled on the bed stand with a raucous polyphonic version of the “Chicken Dance.”  Rose leaned over him to squint at the display.

“It’s Hal,” she noted.  “You use the “Chicken Dance” ringtone for Hal?!?  She’s gonna kill ya.”

“Not if she doesn’t know,” chortled the Doctor before picking up.  He turned on the speakerphone so Rose could join in.

“Halloooo!” said he said in a loud cheerful voice.

“About time you two got up,” Hal’s voice said.  “Lots of stuff left to get done in preparation for the field trip, you know.  “Kaster and I are coming over to help you pack.”

Rose groaned loudly.  “Can’t we do that this weekend?”

“We’re spending most of Saturday at your parents, according to the Doctor’s text, so that only leaves Sunday to get everything onto the zeppelin.  Whose idea was it to look at houses on Saturday, anyway?”

“Pete’s,” both Rose and the Doctor chorused.

“And it’s only one stuffy old house on the estate itself,” said the Doctor.

“Never actually said I would move in with you two,” complained Hal, although it was clear from her tone that she’d not ruled out the idea.

“Sure you did,” countered the Doctor.

“I’m certain I did not,” argued Hal.

“It was in your eyes,” chuckled the Doctor, giving Rose a wink.

“It sounds grand an’ a bit of a fixer-upper, so we could decorate anyway we wanted, Hal,” chimed in Rose.

“It has a basement cellar, right?”

“Pete says it’s a full cellar, and I think he said it was about eight rooms.  We could have a library!” said Rose.

“Don’t forget, there needs to be enough room in the cellar for both Sid and the baby TARDIS,” warned Hal.  “Which reminds me, we need to drop by to check on her today.”

“I know,” said the Doctor with a sad shake of his head.  “She’s been mentally pinging me for days, poor baby girl.”

“Speaking of pinging, how did you manage to get out of the Tyler mansion alive?  I know Jackie must have caught you, because you woke me with your girly screaming,” laughed Hal.

“I never!” yelped the Doctor, face contorting with embarrassment.

“Uhm, yeah, you did,” whispered Rose with an apologetic grin.  “Telepathically, anyway.”

Pouting, the Doctor went on the offense.  “Yes, I survived, but no thanks to you!  So why didn’t you come running to save me, Hal?  I could be in hundreds of piece by now.”

“Hah!” snorted Hal.  “If you recall, we both told you not to try it, but… oh, nooooo… Mr _I’m Not Scared of Jackie Tyler_ had to risk his manhood to prove his manhood, and then screamed like a schoolgirl at a boy band concert when she showed up.”

“She was _behind_ the flippin’ _door_ , for crying out loud!” whinged the Doctor while Rose bent double, held her sides and gasped for breath.

The sound of Hal’s guffaws on the other end only incensed the Doctor more, who reached to grab the mobile and was poised to rudely end the call.  Before he could punch at the END button, Rose managed to snatch the mobile from his hand.

“He proposed to me on bended knee an’ gave me a gorgeous engagement ring, Hal!” Rose gasped breathlessly into the device.  “That’s how he avoided annihilation.  He appealed to Mum’s love of big jewels.”

“Got bigger jewels than that,” snarked the Doctor under his breath.

“Shut up!” laughed Rose.    

“Ooooh,” cooed Hal over the mobile.  “So much for saving it for the family dinner.”

“Plans change, Hal,” said the Doctor snidely.  “Thanks to my extremely quick Time Lord brain, disaster was avoided, Rose got a nice surprise, and I bought time to pack more clothing.”

“They’re all designer wear, Hal,” Rose said.

“Oh, boy,” sighed Hal.  They could almost hear her roll her eyes.  “That’s just spiffy.  We’ll get him a Stetson so he’ll look like a country-western singer.  Or a… uhm…”

“Don’t!  Don’t you dare say it!” squeaked the Doctor.  “It’ll mess up my hair.”

“I rest my case.  And with that, I’ll ring off,” laughed Hal.  “See you in about an hour.  Make sure you’re both properly dressed when I get there, ok?  Kaster is only a few weeks old.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” said the Doctor in a serious voice.  The click of the mobile signalled the definitive end of the conversation.

Rose groaned and walloped him with her pillow.  “Don’ know why she puts up with ya,” she said as she bolted for the shower and locked the door.

“Oi,” muttered the Doctor.  “Rude!”


	39. Our House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II, Rose, and Hal take a tour of the vacant house on the estate. TBC...

 

A loud sneeze was all it took to send Hal whirling around in a snit.

“Anyone ever teach you to sneeze into your arm?” she barked at the Doctor, wiping testily at the back of her neck.  Just for good measure, she wiped her hand down his sleeve with a look of aggrieved disgust.  

Kaster, fur standing up comically after a recent bath, ignored them to pull at his lead.  His nose twitched at the strange cedar-like smells of old wood and paint.

“Aw, did you have to do that?” the Doctor moaned with a pained grimace, pulling his sleeve material away from the skin as if it was contaminated by some noxious substance.

“Damn straight,” she hissed.  “Next time, keep your snot and germs to yourself.”

“Not my fault.  Time Lords don’t sneeze.”

“Oh, really?” she asked sardonically with hand on hip.  “So to what do I owe the great pleasure of being sprayed with Time Lord mucus?  Is it some ritualistic Gallifreyan gesture I wasn’t aware of?”

The Doctor pursed his lips in thought.  “Well, it’s the dust in this musty old house, that’s what it is.  And I’ll have you know that it’s considered a great honour amongst the cultured inhabitants of Balhoon to share one’s bodily fluids by spitting.”

“Oh, yeah,” grinned Rose behind them with a carefully schooled expression.  “I remember the Moxx of Balhoon.  Nasty little blue bugger.  Spit right in my eye!”

“Yup,” grinned the Doctor right back with an affirmative nod.  “Our first date!”

Rose’s grin dropped immediately as she fixed the Doctor with an admonishing look.  “Yeah, it was completely disgustin’, so stop it.”

“Our first trip in the TARDIS was disgusting?” he asked obtusely, face twisted into mock hurt.  “You didn’t like watching your planet’s death throes as it was swallowed whole by Sol turned-red-giant?  It was quite the posh event of its time, you know.”

“Stop it!  You know what I meant,” Rose said, narrowing her eyes.

“But Rooose!  It wasn’t on purpose.  Hal is just put out because Pete’s making her take Jack Harkness on the trip as penance for trying to shoot him.”

“At _your_ suggestion,” growled Hal.

“Saved your job,” he needled.  “But really, it’s this dank old house.  Probably has mould growing in every corner,” he said, glancing furtively about the ceiling.

“We’ve only jus’ arrived in the foyer,” Rose berated him, “an’ ya never sneezed any of the times ya got us locked up in dank, nasty old jails.”

“Well, that’s different…” he started.  But Rose was having none of it and cut him off at the quick.

“Look, I told ya that we’re gonna do a proper walkthrough of the house before ya start whingin’ about it.  Mum an’ Dad should be here any second to show us around.  Now behave.”

“Yes, dear,” he muttered with an eye-roll, shoving his hands into both pockets.  A snigger erupted from Hal, who stopped immediately when she caught sight of a frown on Rose’s face.

“An’ that goes for you, too,” Rose told her with a finger wag as a smiling Pete opened the front door.  He froze, noting Rose’s thunderous features, and looked to each of them in turn.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked in confusion.

“Nope,” said Rose with an emphatic pop of her “p” and a head shake.  “We’re all ready to take the tour, aren’t we?” she asked the Doctor and Hal pointedly.  The two shook their heads mutely and meekly.

“Oi, what’s goin’ on here?” asked Jackie as she shoved her way around Pete, a small older man with a full ginger and grey beard on her heels.  The man’s bushy eyebrows were masses of long, wildly disturbed hairs that grew out in every direction, causing the Doctor to stare and tilt his head in surprise.

“Jus’ waitin’ on you folks,” Rose said with a genteel smile.  A well-placed elbow into the Doctor’s ribs reminded him that he was being, as usual, quite rude.

“Doctor, Rose, Hal…I’d like you to meet our Estate Manager, Mr Quatermass,” introduced Pete, placing a hand on the gnome-like man’s shoulder.

“Please ta’ meet ya,” Quatermass greeted them with a slight Scottish burr and a polite nod.

“Noooo,” breathed the Doctor with widened eyes.  “Quatermass?  Really?” he squeaked.  

“Aye,” the man answered with a look of confusion.  “Bernard Quatermass.  Have we met, laddie?”  He hooked his thumbs into the braces holding his plaid tweed trousers.  The trousers hung precariously below a round potbelly that threatened to pop the bottom buttons of his blue oxford.  A white vinyl pocket protector, filled with several pens, pencils and markers, protruded from his left shirt pocket.   _This_ Bernard Quatermass, the Doctor thought, would fit perfectly into any number of engineering departments.

“Oh, uhm, no,” mumbled the Doctor in recovery.  “We’ve not met, but I know someone who would be absolutely chuffed to meet you!  You share a name with a very famous professor!”

“That’d not be me, laddie,” smiled the Estate Manager.  “Know my way ‘round a mitre saw, but not a chalkboard.”

Pete nodded.  “Mr Quatermass manages the facilities and grounds keeping staff, so we don’t see nearly as much of him as we’d like.  But the estate would be in a sorry shape without him.  Brought him over from the old mansion, an’ a finer Estate Manager you’ll never find,” Pete said proudly.

“T’was a beautiful house, that one,” said Quatermass sadly.  “A true pity the Cybermen had to destroy it an’ leave such dismal memories.”

“New an’ wonderful memories to make, old chap,” Pete said with a pat to his back.  “Shall we see if we can get this young couple to make a comfortable nest of this old lady?”

“Aye.  Where shall we start first, eh?” Quatermass asked with a twinkle in his kind grey eyes.

“The cellar,” Hal injected quickly.  “We need it to house a… uhm,” she ground to a halt, looking to Pete with a question in her eyes.

“Bernard knows the particulars of this family an’ is discreet,” Pete reassured her.  “You may speak freely with him.  If you have special needs, he’s your man.”

“Ooooh,” cooed Hal, clasping her hands together in glee.  A triumphant glint appeared in her eyes at the thought of a proper home for Sid, complete with fibre-optic cabling, dehumidifiers, and clean power sources.

“Within reason,” added Pete.  “I’d prefer not to have to build a power plant on the premises, mind.  I may be wealthy, but I’m not _that_ wealthy.”

“I was thinkin’ more like a closet, some gerbils on wheels and an extension cable,” quipped the Doctor, giving Hal a sideways glance.

“What?  Like for your car?”  Hal responded in a saccharine voice.

“Alright then,” said Pete hastily, clapping his hands as the two exchanged daggered looks.  “To the cellar, shall we?”

It was a steep descent down wooden stairs to the rough-walled cellar.  Rose shivered at the halfway point as a chill settled around the six.  Hal had Kaster tucked tightly against her waist, since he wasn’t adept at climbing or descending stairs yet.  His nose never ceased to twitch as he sniffed and snuffled, snorting every few seconds to expel old air from his delicate nasal passages.

“’S cold,” said Rose.

“Aye, lassie,” affirmed Quatermass as he reached the bottom.  “Solid limestone walls all the way ‘round.  Steady temperature of about fifteen degrees, unless ya install a zoned heatin’ system.  Would’na suggest that, though.  With heat comes moisture, an’ with moisture comes condensation.  Multiple sumps installed with backup, so ya should’na have floodin’.  House is elevated on a rise, so rain’s not an issue.  This is more accurately called a basement, given its depth and size.”

Several bare light bulbs swung from sockets hanging from the girders, illuminating the vast empty cavern of greyish-white stone.  Setting Kaster down to the floor, Hal slowly paced the huge floor with wide eyes, staring up at the network of pipes, vents, wires and floor strutting.  A portion of the wall was covered by a wooden wine rack with a few dusty bottles slotted in some of the compartments.

“It’s huge,” Hal said in awe.  “Almost the size of my sister’s basement!  It even has a walkout,” she said, pointing to an old but sturdy wooden door along one wall.

“Mmmm,” hummed the Doctor in thought, his hand slowly rubbing his chin as he paced behind her.  Rose detected a peak of interest that hadn’t been there before as he scanned the space, brows knitted.

“Think the baby TARDIS would have enough room in here?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, yeah.  More than enough room,” he mused.  “It’s even tall enough a space, which is what concerned me the most.”

“And there’d be enough space for Sid,” Hal said gleefully.  “He’d only take up about half.  The limestone provides excellent EMH shielding, and the temperature is perfect.”

“Half?!?” frowned the Doctor.  “He doesn’t have a quarter… no… a _fifth_ of this space in the lower floor of your flat, Hal.  Let’s not get greedy.”

“Oh, come on, Doctor!  He needs room for expansion, and it’s downright difficult to trace his cabling in a cramped space,” Hal said with a slight pout.

“Thought you weren’t considering living with us,” the Doctor said with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

Jackie stared at them agape.

“Who are you keepin’ down in the cellar, again?” she demanded.

Rose laughed, shaking her head.  “Sid’s her computer, Mum.  Remember?”

“But you’re talkin’ about it like it’s some kind of person,” Jackie said in confusion.  “Have the lot of ya gone barkin’ mad?  ‘S jus’ a machine, right?”

A flush arose into Hal’s cheeks as she turned to Jackie, an offended look flashing across her features.

“Sid is not just a computer, Jackie,” Hal said in a carefully modulated tone. “He’s a sentient being in his own right, and my friend.  He came with me from the other universe and was my ship’s navigational system when we crashed.  You can actually, properly talk to him the same as you do to me.  So, please… don’t say he’s ‘just a machine’ because he’s much more than that.”

“Can talk, can he?  Well, obviously he don’t drive much better than this mook,” Jackie snipped with a curt nod at the Doctor.

_“Oi!”_ barked the Doctor in protest.

“Uhm, Jacks, that’s quite enough,” Pete interjected.  He could see the muscles of Hal’s jaw twitch and her nostrils flare, trying hard to hold her tongue.  Quatermass was quietly and politely examining an imagined flaw in the limestone wall next to him, waiting for a sign the crew was ready to move on.

“Any questions about the cellar before we go upstairs?” asked Pete, trying to avoid meeting Jackie’s glare.

“Nope, not at the moment,” said the Doctor.  

“Think it would do?” asked Rose hopefully, noting the wistful expression on Hal’s face as she turned 360 to give the space one last perusal.  

“It has… potential,” said the Doctor flatly.  He was feeling the almost palpable pressure already from everyone in the room, and the not-so-subtle telepathic pressure from Rose and Hal.  Spinning on his heels, he headed back up the stairs in a wordless command to continue the tour.

The first floor of the home was divided into fairly large spaces, including a roomy kitchen that once again sent Hal into a flurry of motion.  She examined every cabinet, the voluminous walk-in pantry, backsplashes, fixtures and plumbing like a military general on a base inspection.  Although there were no installed appliances, she was pleased to note a natural gas line for the cooker.

It was all far too domestic for the Doctor, who retreated to a large vacant room at the farthest corner of the floor.  It was somewhat lacking in windows, giving it the rather featureless appearance of blank wall space.  Rose wandered in behind him before wrapping her arms around his waist.

“What do you think?” she asked with a shy smile.  “Kinda boring, ain’t it?”

“Library,” he said with a grin.  “Most definitely a library.  See all that wall space?  Perfect for book shelves!”

“Oooh!!” Hal cried as she entered, followed by Jackie, Pete and Quatermass.  “This would make a fabulous studio!”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow in confusion.  “Studio?  What are you talking about?”

“Sound studio,” explained Hal.  “A bit of sound-proofing, a few more electrical outlets and _Voila!_ We could invite some of the boys over for a jam session.”

“Like who?” squeaked the Doctor.

“Malcolm is a fantastic drummer, Doctor,” answered Rose.  “An’ Hal plays keyboards, right?”

“Yeah,” nodded Hal.  “And I’ve heard Jake play electric guitar.  He can definitely hold his own.  You could play that bass guitar you’ve shoved into your closet, and Rose has a stunning voice for vocals.”

Over by the door, Quatermass peered over reading glasses as he scribbled madly on a pad of paper he’d whipped from his back pocket.  He’d look up now and then to locate suitable positions for outlet ports on the wall.

“Wait a mo’, I was planning to put bookshelves in here,” the Doctor whined.  “Nice comfy chairs, lots of dark red drapery and a fireplace right there,” he said with a stab of his finger at the outer wall.

“Plenty of other rooms for that,” sniffed Hal.  “You don’t want a lot of windows for a studio.  You’ll just break ‘em, especially with a nice raucous rock number.”

“She has a point,” agreed Rose, nodding sagely.

“I give up,” he griped, slapping a hand to his forehead in exasperation.  “So much for a man’s home being his castle, eh?” he said pointedly to Pete, who rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  

“The adjoining rooms across the hallway would make lovely libraries,” Pete said helpfully.  “There’s even already a gorgeous fireplace in one of them, Doctor.”

Stalking out in a huff, the Doctor crossed the hallway and walked into one of said rooms, muttering mild Gallifreyan curses each step.  The first room was quite spacious and, true to Pete’s word, had a black marble fireplace with ornate and a beautifully worked mahogany chimneypiece.  All anger drained from the Doctor’s face as he walked over to caress the warm wood, ignoring the patina of dust collecting on his fingertips.  Crouching down to inspect the flue and damper, he unhooked the damper and slowly eased it down.  A faint smile broke over his face at the slight creak and squeak of the hinge.  Closing the damper, he arose to once again run his fingers over the Romanesque curves, stopping to admire the exquisite handwork of the rosettes near the top corners.

“Oh, look at you,” he breathed.  “You’re beautiful!”

Standing in the doorway, Pete watched the Doctor’s rapt admiration with a smile.

“Doctor!!” shouted Rose from the hallway.  “You’ve got to come see the bedrooms upstairs.  They’re humongous!!”

Reluctant to tear himself away from the fireplace, the Doctor slowly turned away as Rose burst into the room.

“Come on, you’ve got to see this,” Rose said excitedly, dragging the bemused Doctor down the hallway.

“We got ‘im, didn’t we?” said Jackie as she joined Pete in the doorway.

“Men love fire, Jacks,” he smiled as he gave her a hug.  “Wait until he sees the giant gas grill on the patio out back!”


	40. Burning Down the House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II, Rose and Hal continue their tour of the old house on the Estate. Will they actually decide to live there? Will it actually survive the tour? Curious minds want to know...

 

The Doctor wasn’t about to admit that he couldn’t see the excitement of a bare room.  A bare room with windows.  And doors.  And walls… lots of walls.  Granted, it wasn’t accompanied by the dreaded mortgage of his nightmares, but it was still… somehow frighteningly static, and boringly three dimensional, and so very, very in one place at one time.  It represented the stifling and unchanging paradigm he’d fled when he ran from Gallifrey.

But standing in the middle of the room, holding his hand, her cheeks flushed pink with the excitement of possibilities, was the centre of his world.  Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth and his beloved bond mate, was seeing something he obviously missed.  She pointed to the windows and envisioned drapery.  She pointed to the floor and visualised handcrafted rugs in tasteful patterns.  Mapping out a location next to a window, she projected the image of a heavy four-poster bed in dark woods, draped with a plush and velvety crimson duvet.  Dragging him through a side doorway she squealed her delight over a gigantic clawed tub with brass fixtures, big enough to contain the both of them.

The tub, he thought as a steamy image of his own formed unbidden, definitely had possibilities.  Actually, a king-sized bed could be useful, too, and would barely make a dent in the vast space of the master bedroom.  With a little imagination, it would not be terribly unlike his barely used bedroom on his TARDIS.

Well, _His_ TARDIS, now.  _Other_ Him.  And probably still barely used, knowing _Him_.

But oh, how his imagination had employed that bed so many, many times.  Mostly in his head, but mostly featuring the pink and yellow beguiling creature holding his hand.  Rose Tyler… lounging casually in her skimpy jimjams, reading a trashy novel while biting into a ripe peach; its sweet juices dripping down her forearm.  Rose Tyler… her cherubic face framed by a halo of yellow hair as she slumbered on his pillow.  Rose Tyler… reclining diagonally across the oversized mattress, licking her kiss-swollen lips and wearing nothing but a shy smile.  Rose Tyler, moaning his name as she writhed…

“Uhm, Doctor?” came a meek little voice next to him.

“Hmmm?” he asked absently, blinking back to reality.

“Earth to Doctor?” Rose giggled.  “Hellooo, Doctor!  Do you copy me?”

He took a deep breath and shifted his gaze around the room as if searching for something.  “Right, just thinking about curtains.  What kind of curtains to put over the, uhm, windows there,” he lied.

“Riiiiiiggght,” drawled Rose, cocking her eyebrow knowingly.

“I was broadcasting that, wasn’t I?” he asked quietly, tugging at his ear in embarrassment.

“Yup,” Rose responded with a pop.  “An’ about the tub full of bubbles, as well.”

“Oops.  Sorry.”

“Did ya hear anythin’ I said to you?”

“’Course I did,” the Doctor pouted.

“What’s the last thing you remember me sayin’?”

Squinting in thought, the Doctor cast his eyes up to the ceiling as if to retrieve a memory.  “Oh, you said… we could get a nice traditional Gallifreyan crimson duvet for the bed,” he blurted triumphantly.

Rose stared at him in wonder for a second.

“Actually didn’t _say_ that, but was thinkin’ it,” she said finally.

“Weeeell, there you go!” he grinned in relief.  “Not only was I listening to you, but I was delving deeply into your mind in rapt attention.”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Right.  Five minutes ago,” he agreed.  “When you were thinking of decorating the bedroom to  look sort of my old bedroom.”

Rose planted a hand on one hip and rolled her eyes.  “An’ the sun?”

“The sun?” he repeated vacuously.

“’S an east-facin’ room, Doctor.  Where do you want the bed?  Positioned toward the window, or with the window behind us so it doesn’t shine into our eyes in the mornin’?”

“Uhm… toward?” he asked tenuously.  From the look on Rose’s face, he distinctly got the feeling that this was one of _those_ questions.  The questions that have no right answers and should never, ever, ever be answered directly under any circumstances.  Donna had taught him more questions of that category than he’d ever thought existed.  ‘Do these trousers make my bum look wider,’ had been a most memorable one.  His left ear rang for months after that.

“Behind us?” he asked, eyes wide watching for Rose’s reaction.

Rose crossed her arms in exasperation.

“’S ok to say which you prefer, Doctor.  Ya don’t have to say what you think I want to hear, ya know,” she said.  

“Oh, ok,” said the Doctor suspiciously.  “Uhm, let’s have the bed face the sun so it wakes us up in the mornings.”

“An’ in the summertime, it’ll wake us up at four in the mornin’, even on the weekends,” Rose countered.

“And… that’s… good?  Right?” he asked futilely.

“No,” said Rose with a shake of her head.  “That’s so very not good.”

The Doctor groaned and spun around with a pained grimace, scrubbing furiously at his face.  His second impulse was to curl into a foetal position on the floor, but he decided to tough it out.

“I mean, it’s good in the winter time.  It would be kinda nice to have the warm sun wakin’ us up on a cold mornin’, right?” Rose explained patiently.  “But you know how I like to sleep in on occasion, so that makes the summer sun problematic.”

“Well, I could move the sun, if I had a fully-grown TARDIS,” he said facetiously.  Best to play stupid and let Rose tell him what she wanted, he guessed.

“Or jus’ move the bed twice a year,” she said, eying him as if he’d just dribbled on his shirt.

“Ah!  Silly me,” he said in relief.  “So, by my keen powers of deduction, Rose Tyler, I would surmise that you wish the bed to be with its back to the east wall, given that we’re heading into the summer season.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

“And we’ll move it to the opposite wall in the late Autumn,” he continued.

“Yup,” Rose said with an affirmative nod.

“Excellent!” he breathed, “that problem solved, thank goodness.”

“Well, not quite,” Rose said with a slight frown.

“Eh?”

“Well, if we get a big heavy bed, it’ll be the devil to move.  Wouldn’t wanna do that twice a year, now would ya?” she asked.

“We’ve dealt with the Devil before,” scoffed the Doctor.  “Didn’t have a chance when the two of us engaged him.”  

“How about, we’re jus’ judicious about how heavy the furniture is, eh?  Doesn’t hafta be as heavy as your old bed, now does it?”

He pursed his lips in thought, realising he’d never moved any of the furniture on the TARDIS in all of his 700+ years with her.

“Rose, I have absolutely, literally, no idea how heavy that old bed is on the TARDIS.  Never had to move it.  Never weighed it.”

“You never moved the bed, ever?” she said in disbelief.  “Never dropped somethin’ behind it?  Never had to sweep out the dust bunnies?”

“Dust bunnies?  What are dust bunnies?” He was genuinely confused and wasn’t quite sure what Rose found so funny about it, although he could feel her mirth through the bond as she laughed.

“Never mind,” Rose grinned.  “But didn’t ya ever want to jus’… _change_ how your room looked every now an’ then?  You know… jus’ because your eyes got sore an’ needed somethin’ different?”

“Uhm… no?” he replied weakly.  

The Doctor had to admit that he had a better understanding of human cognition than ever before, thanks to an infusion of Donna.  But there were still situations that eluded even his keen powers of perception, when his inner Donna would remained stubbornly silent as if cruelly waiting for him to cock it up.  Or wait… was it a female thing?

“Oh, now that I think of it,” he added, “every regeneration or so, the TARDIS would change decor slightly, and would occasionally move the furniture around.  Never quite knew why.  Didn’t think about it, really.  Might that be because the TARDIS is female?”

“Don’t be sexist,” came a voice from the doorway.  Hal and Kaster stood on the threshold, giving the room an approving look.

“How’s that sexist?” rebutted the Doctor.  “I didn’t ask for her to move the furniture around; she just did.”

“Has nothing to do with gender,” replied Hal.  “It has everything to do with being a repressed Time Lord and having to unlearn old, musty, ingrained thought patterns.  It had much more to do with you, than with gender.  Did it ever occur to you why you seldom spent time in your bedroom?”

“Because I didn’t sleep?  Because I hated sleeping alone whenever I did sleep?”

Hal gave him a crooked grin.  “Because it was always the same, and you had learned to enjoy change and excitement?  Because the colours and style reminded you of what you’d lost?  Because you never asked the TARDIS to change it for you?  Because it hadn’t yet occurred to you that you _could_ change it?”

“Yeah, guess it hadn’t crossed my mind that I should change it,” he admitted.

“Do yourself and Rose a favour, Doctor,” Hal said solemnly.  “Don’t copy your old bedroom on the TARDIS.  The two of you are building a new life together.  Make this your own space that’s vibrant and alive and full of promise for the future, not a reminder of a dead past.  If you must memorialise Gallifrey, do it outside the marriage chamber.  When the baby TARDIS creates your new bedroom a few years from now, she’ll have bonded to you both.  She’ll make sure it matches the two of you perfectly.”

“You are so bossy,” grinned the Doctor.  “But so right, at least about the master bedroom.  Surprised you didn’t claim it for a playroom for Kaster, or something.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Hal said jokingly, giving Kaster a nudge with her leg.

Kaster looked up with curious dark brown eyes, nose still twitching constantly since he’d arrived at the house.

_Hal, why does Rose smell funny?_ he asked innocently, his head cocked adorably as he sat on his haunches at Hal’s feet.

Hal burst into a self-conscious laugh, her cheeks blazing as she grabbed Kaster by the collar and unceremoniously dragged the surprised pup down the hallway.  “Got another room to check,” she chuckled with a stiff wave to the couple.

“What was that about?” asked Rose in a hurt voice.  “Did he jus’ say I smell?  I showered before we came over.”  She sniffed delicately at her underarms.

The Doctor dropped his chin to his chest, a slightly abashed smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.  

“Weeelll, dogs have a much more sensitive sense of smell than humans.  Actually, a bit more sensitive than even that of Time Lords, to be honest.  I think he was referring to the, uh, smell of, uhm…”

“Oh my gawd,” Rose gasped in horror.  “He can tell that we had… sex?” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper on the last word.

“Rose, your entire building complex knows we had sex, thanks to your noisy bed and rather unrestrained vocalisations,” he said smugly.  “But Kaster can probably discern what we’ve eaten in the last week, simply from a sniff.”

Rose’s face and neck grew a duskier shade, but the tip of her pink tongue gradually peeked out as she gave the Doctor a saucy glance through her upper lashes.  

“Seems someone else was jus’ as _unrestrained,_ ” she said in a low tone.  

“Then perhaps we need to consider sound-proofing for this room, as well,” he said matter-of-factly.  

Rose grinned, sensing a definite shift in the Doctor’s attitude toward the home.

“You like the house, don’t ya?  Are you ready to commit?” she asked.

“Uhmm, not quite,” he hummed cagily.  “I’d like to see the rest of the house first.”

“Prat.”

“Guilty as charged, but I’m _your_ prat and you’re stuck with me now,” the Doctor chortled, meandering toward the doorway.  “Shall we, Dame Tyler?”

They wandered about the upper level, examining the four very spacious bedrooms situated at each corner of the house, each with its own ensuite bathroom.  A large room with only an archway occupied the central space between the bedrooms.  It ran along the west wall opposite the stairway that was surrounded by spindled railing, bordered by a narrow undefined hallway.  Jackie, Pete and Quatermass joined them as they examined the sweep of windows that comprised the majority of the outer wall of the room.

“Wow, what could this be?” asked Rose.  “No door, no ensuite, no rods in the closets, an’ the closets are sort of narrow, so it can’t be a bedroom.”

“It’s a sunroom,” said Quatermass.  “Gets plenty o’ sun on this side o’ the house.”

Rose nodded.  “S’plains the huge picture windows, don’t it?”

Rotating on his heels, the Doctor studied the space carefully, an excited glimmer lit his dark eyes as he rubbed his chin in contemplation.

“Playroom,” suggested Jackie with a nod.  “It’d make a fantastic playroom.”

“Oh, yes,” smiled the Doctor.  “Quite.”

“Wait a mo,” frowned Rose.  “I’m not sure if I’m more shocked that you’re plannin’ a playroom for kids already, or ‘cause you an’ Mum jus’ agreed on somethin’.”

“Kids?” asked the Doctor, puzzled.  “Who said anything about kids?  I’m thinkin’ a laboratory in that corner,” he pointed toward the northwest corner.  “And an electronics bench over there!” he pointed toward the northeast corner.

Quatermass scribbled on his pad, his eyes tracing out dimensions as he wrote.

“Sounds like a playroom for a pretty geeky grown kid, to me,” grinned Pete.  “Wouldn’t happen to have one of those, would ya?”

“Obviously, I do,” said Rose, slightly relieved.  She wasn’t _quite_ ready to envision a roomful of children in the large room, but she wasn’t sure if she shouldn’t be more disturbed by the idea of the Doctor creating explosions within the home.  Perhaps an outdoor, _unattached_ shed would be a better venue.

“ _Ooooh_ _,_ a playroom!” drawled Hal as she strolled into the room, a subdued Kaster trailing behind her.

“That’s what I said,” Jackie said with a nod.  “Jus’ think of all the toys you could fit in here.”

“You could make the ceiling dark blue and paint stars, galaxies, nebulae and planets with glow-in-the-dark paints,” Hal said with a broad sweep of her hand.

“That’s a brilliant idea, Hal!” said the Doctor, even more excited as he began to imagine how he might camouflage the walls so that they didn’t actually _look_ like walls.  “I am a rather good painter, if I have to say so myself,” he preened.  “Taught DaVinci a thing or two, back in the day.”

“Right,” said Hal as everyone rolled their eyes.  “So, O’ Great Mentor of DaVinci, bet you didn’t know DaVinci was a shifter.”

“No way,” responded the Doctor, clearly dubious.

“’Way.  How else could he have painted all those ceilings without eventually killing himself?”

“Scaffolding, maybe?” scoffed the Doctor.

“And big leathery wings,” she said.  “But, how about designing something similar to the playroom for a nursery,” she deflected.

“Nursery?”

“Yeah, the room on the northwest corner, directly across from the master bedroom.  Would be perfectly positioned for a nursery,” said Hal casually.

“I am not lettin’ that plum design a nursery for my grandkids!” shouted Jackie.  “It’ll be done up proper, by a proper interior designer.  Pete, let’s take another look at it.”  

“But, Mum,” said Rose as her mother started for the door.

“No, no… let me do this for ya, Rose.  Ya don’t know how long I’ve been dreamin’ of decoratin’ for a grandbaby!” she said, catching Pete by the elbow.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Rose said with hands raised.  “Isn’t this a little premature?  I mean, I jus’ got… uhm… engaged.  I have a career an’ I don’t wanna give it up!  I haven’t had time to think about any of this yet, an’ already people are pressurin’ me to have children?!?”

“Oi, nobody’s pressurin’ ya,” responded Jackie dismissively.  “I’d like ya to walk down the bleedin’ aisle first, you know that.  But Hal is right, the room is the perfect place for a nursery, so we may as well reserve it an’ start plannin’.  Knowin’ Himself over there, it’ll end up full of junk like in my closets.”

“Have you selected a room, Hal?” asked Pete, hoping to dial down the drama before it got out of hand.

“Well, I was thinking about the room on the southwest corner, next to this room,” Hal said in an uncertain voice.  There was a definite detectable nervousness about her.  She met the Doctor’s eyes, who smiled warmly back at her, and then relaxed.  Rose, however, was silently staring them both down.

“Mum, why don’t you an’ Dad take Mr Quatermass for another look at that room, then,” said Rose, who never took her eyes off of the Doctor and Hal.  Jackie gave out a little squeal and headed for the hallway, Pete in tow.

_What’s goin’ on,_ Rose asked them both.  _I can tell you’re holdin’ back somethin’, Hal._

_Wow, your telepathic skills are increasing by the minute, Rose!_ said Hal, her eyes flickering toward the door.

_Stop tryin’ to change the subject,_ Rose said sternly. _You’ve been actin’ really weird since you walked into the room.  What happened?_

_I’ll tell you after dinner, ok?_ Hal pleaded.  

_Why can’t you tell us now?_ frowned the Doctor. _You can talk to us about anything, you know that._

_I know, and I will,_ insisted Hal, _but you’ll thank me later for waiting.  I don’t think it’s something you want Jackie to know yet, and she’ll sense if you’re trying to hold something back from her._

_It’s somethin’ to do with this house, then?_ probed Rose.

_Uhm_ _, no… not really._ _But if I’m right, it changes everything,_ Hal said, biting her lower lip.

_Is somethin’ about to happen?  Should we even be plannin’ to live here, then?_ Rose asked her two companions, a look of disappointment spreading slowly across her features.

Hal nodded slowly.  _Yes,_ _and yes._

_Then you’ll stay with us?_ asked the Doctor hopefully.

Hal cast her eyes to the ceiling and bobbed her head around, almost like a bobble-head doll in a moving vehicle.  _Yeah, yeah… you two will need me,_ she sighed.

Rose squeaked, embracing Hal joyously as the Doctor joined in to pull them both into a hug.  All three of them looked down, feeling Kaster jumping up and pawing at their legs.  

_And you, too, Kaster!_ said the Doctor with a big toothy grin.  _If you’re gonna do domestic, white picket fence and all that, you gotta have a dog, eh?  And not just any old dog for this family, either._

Jackie reappeared at the archway, giving them all a puzzled look.  As far as she was concerned, they were all standing there with daft smiles on their faces, hugging like little kids on a playground.

“How come the three of ya are so quiet?” she asked.

“Just enjoying the view out the window, Jackie,” said the Doctor.  “We’re about to go outside to check on the patio.”

“You’re gonna love it, Doctor!” Pete said, sticking his head around the entrance.  “Big tiled patio with ivy-covered latticework, an’ one of the biggest, baddest propane grills you’ve ever seen!  You could grill a whole cow on that puppy,” he said with a broad smile.

Kaster gave out a whimpery-moan, casting Pete a chastising scowl.  Pete blinked, getting the feeling that he’d definitely been told off… by a puppy.

“Sorry ‘bout that, uhm, Kaster.  No offence meant,” he apologised, feeling rather silly.

“Did _you_ jus’ apologise to a _dog_ , Pete?”  Jackie gave him a look as if he’d gone daft.

“Jackie, with this crew, I take nothin’ for granted.  For all I know, the bloody thing can talk,” he complained.

Rose, Hal and the Doctor gave each other amazed glances before bursting into guffaws.

“Would you believe us if we told you he can?” asked the Doctor, amused.

“Can he? Really?” asked Pete, eyebrows threatening to crawl past his receding ginger hairline.

“Weeeell, sort of,” said the Doctor.  “Well, really, he can’t. He communicates telepathically.  But only to us.  Or at least, we _think_ it’s only to us.”

Pete nodded, stunned.  “Yeah, ok.  Right.  Should have guessed as much.”

“Thought he looked brighter than your average dog,” said Quatermass, who had appeared a few steps behind Pete.  He walked into the room and crouched down.

“How’d ya like to chase some sheep, young pup?” he directed to Kaster with a twinkle in his eye.

Kaster looked to Hal, who gave him a slight nod.  He walked cautiously up to Quatermass, allowing the furry gentleman to extend the back of his hand for him to sniff.  Ears perking up, Kaster caught a whiff of pipe tobacco mixed with the pungent aroma of dog, and a birdy smell he couldn’t identify.  In the background was the faint fragrance of some type of herbivore, triggering a strong racial memory that shot through Kaster’s small body like a bolt of lightning.  He trembled, eyes glittering as he searched Quatermass’ face.

“Aye, laddie… ya recognise that smell, don’tcha?” said Quatermass in a soothing voice.  Doggy formalities concluded, he reached to scratch gently behind Kaster’s ears.  He looked up to Hal.

“If ya like, he can come over to my farm for a bit.  Learn to herd sheep, chase ducks, be a dog.  He’s from a herdin’ breed, so it’ll help keep the weight off o’ him,” offered the kindly Estate Manager.  

Hal hesitated, staring deeply into Quatermass’ sharp grey eyes.  Slipping quickly and stealthily into the older man’s mind, she saw no artifice there.  With this man, what you saw was what you got.  He led a solitary life, happiest most amongst his animals and the beauty of nature.  Outside of those, he was best immersed within his work.  Satisfied, Hal withdrew and shifted her gaze to Kaster, who watched her expectantly.

“That is very kind and generous of you, Mr Quatermass,” said Hal.  “I believe Kaster would enjoy that very much.”

Quatermass nodded and smiled.  “Let me know when he can go, and he could spend a weekend with me sometime.”

“Thanks, we’ll contact you when we return from the US in a couple of weeks.”

Patting Kaster on the head, Quatermass stood and bent backwards to stretch his back muscles.  “Shall we look at the patio now?  I took the liberty of puttin’ a new propane tank on yon grill,” he said with a head nod toward the windows overlooking the ivy-covered patio.

“Lead the way,” said Pete.

The patio was significantly larger than the Doctor had imagined.  It was accessible via sliding glass doors from the family room, but he’d not noticed it before because the glass doors were covered by closed draperies.  The back of the drapes were a dense thermal barrier against bright light and heat, making the family room suitable for television viewing, but once drawn back they revealed a view of the entire patio.  Dappled light shined through latticework overgrown by dark ivy, giving the shaded area a shimmering look.  

Inlaid smooth terracotta tiles of various shades comprised the surface, set in an intricate pattern that provided an interesting view without appearing too busy.  Sitting in the centre was a round four foot wide granite fire pit, which hardly dominated the otherwise empty twenty foot by twenty foot area.

“It’s gorgeous,” breathed Rose.  “We could entertain an army with a patio that large!”

Pete grinned and flipped the lock on the sliding glass doors, grunting when the door stuttered in its tracks.

“Allow me,” said Quatermass, hurrying over to put his shoulder into the door.  “I’ll see to that right away, Mr Tyler,” he said after coaxing the door open.  Once again he brought out his pad to add additional notes.

They stepped out onto the patio and immediately noticed that, in spite of the sun shining directly overhead, the temperature was several degrees cooler than the surrounding air.  Against the wall, over the doors, was a white cylinder bordered on each side by green discreet supports that matched the ivy and thrust out most of the length of the patio.

“Motorised awning,” nodded Quatermass in answer to the Doctor’s visual inspection.  “No need to come in if it rains.  Motor’s a bit wonky, so we’ll replace it for ya prior to move in.”

“Brilliant,” breathed the Doctor, reaching to catch Rose’s hand.  “But where’s this impressive man-stove you keep talking about, Pete?”

With a twinkle in his blue eyes, Pete strode over to a canvas-covered object sitting a few feet away from the edge of the patio tiles, parallel to the ivy.  Grasping the canvas and whipping it off with a dramatic flair, he pointed proudly to an enormous propane grill installed within an equally large rolling stainless steel cabinet.  At least six feet in length, it had two separate lids for the separate cooking surfaces and two flat prep surfaces on either side.  It had obviously been recently cleaned, as the gleam from the brushed steel lids practically blinded everyone.

“Eh?” grinned Pete. “Isn’t it a beauty?  If you’re not familiar with grillin’, I’m more than happy to come over an’ give ya a few lessons.”  Pete opened the lid to show spotless black grilling surfaces.  Turning the petcock on the propane tank first, Pete then twisted the control knobs and hit the ignition.  A loud whoosh heralded a burst of flame that settled quickly into a steady blue flicker.

“Oooh,” cooed the Doctor, lifting waving his hand over the grill grates to test the heat.  Pete watched him with a broad smile, crossing him arms and gazing fondly at the Doctor.  He was gratified to see that the Doctor was clearly fascinated with this strangely human rite of manhood.

After twisting a few of the knobs experimentally, the Doctor stepped back and reached into his coat pocket.  Grinning madly, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and brandished it over the grill.

“Could use a bit of sonic,” he stated.  

A look of absolute horror washed across four faces simultaneous, except for Quatermass, who didn’t recognise the device.

_“NOOOO!”_ screamed a chorus of voices simultaneously, about half a second too late.

Luckily for the Doctor, the Tyler estate had its own small fire truck and brigade of volunteer employees trained in fire fighting.  Only the right outer edge of the patio latticework was damaged, although its ivy was charred beyond recognition.  Due to the brigade’s rapid response, even the smouldering was over within thirty minutes.

“Can fix that, too, although can’t do much with the ivy,” said Quatermass quietly, an amused glimmer in his eyes.  “It’ll grow back in a season or two.”

Hal, who had been simmering quietly while the fire was put out, leapt up to give the Doctor a resounding slap on the back of the head.

_“Ow!”_ he yelped, although he managed to refrain from asking _why._ That would have only resulted in additional corporal punishment, possibly with a contribution from Jackie.

“You idiot!  You almost burned the whole damn house down!” Hal yelled at him.  

Her beet-red face invited the Doctor to make comparisons to the fire truck, but he clamped down on even the thought, lest Hal pick up on it and attempt to kill him.  The house itself was empty, but there was now a rather lethal-looking hose snaking through the yard.  Well, lethal in Hal’s hands, anyway.

“It was only the corner of the patio.  That’s a good twenty feet from the house, Hal,” he said with a pout.

“Shhh,” hissed Rose in warning.  “Don’t wind her up more’n she is.  An’ she’s right, you know.  You’re an idiot.  You soniced a gas grill.  Really?!?”

Giving Rose a hurt look, the Doctor didn’t notice Jackie marching over to his side.

“Gimme it,” demanded Jackie, her eyes blazing hotter than the sonic-enflamed fire of the grill.

“What?”

“You know what, you bleedin’ fire bug!  Gimme that sonic thingy, now!” she barked.

“What are you going to do with it?” he asked contritely.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it back after dinner,” said Jackie, “but if you don’t give it to me now, it’s gonna be glowin’ blue out your arse!”

Silently, but demonstrably unhappy, the Doctor handed over his precious sonic to Jackie Tyler, who stalked back into the house.

“Well, thanks for providing the before dinner entertainment,” said Pete.  “At least you didn’t actually burn up the grill itself.  Now let’s see if we can get through the rest of this evenin’ without further ado, eh?”

“That’ll be the day,” Rose said under her breath.


	41. From a Distance

 

The Tyler family dinner was going smashingly, thought Jack, with the exception of the storm-like darkened looks the Doctor was shooting him from across the table.  

While the object of the Doctor’s extreme displeasure and dark glower was, unfortunately, one Jack Harkness, Jack’s stock perhaps had risen elsewhere.  Fortuitously, Hal seemed to have banked her feelings of animosity at the moment.  Bright blue eyes met dark sapphires about as cool and unyielding as any stone he’d ever examined; but in spite of the shudder of slight fear that passed through him at each indecipherable glance, he could not stop staring into their chillingly beautiful depths.

It wasn’t simply the startlingly unusual shade of rich blue, extremely rare for a human, which drew Harkness.  True, she wasn’t hard to look at, and Jack was a connoisseur of beauty in whatever form it took.  But what called the Jack the most was something behind those huge orbs that seemed to hold forbidden secrets; that spoke of an unimaginably different life from the norm.  Eyes that could pin him like an insect on a card and discern every thought he’d ever had while giving away nothing.  She was a mystery, and a disturbingly dangerous one to boot; two qualities Jack could never walk away from.

But it had not been Jack’s idle flirting with the lovely shifter that raised the Metacrisis Time Lord’s ire and twisted his features almost into a parody of a Kabuki masque.  It had been Jack’s rather all-too-familiar embrace of Rose Tyler upon arrival, including an exuberant grasping of ample bum, which set the Doctor off.

If Jack had any doubts whatsoever that the Metacrisis was an exact duplicate of _his_ Doctor, they were dispelled quickly by the glare he met over Rose’s shoulder.  Deep brown ancient eyes shot him a warning that he recognised immediately as if they were still a steely blue:  _Hands off the blonde._

Slipping his hands up to a slightly more acceptable location at Rose’s waist, Jack kept his features neutral so as not to clue Rose into what had passed between him and the Time Lord, kissing her chastely on her cheek after a brief pause.  Before he could step back to a safe distance, Rose threw her arms around Jack’s neck again.

“Don’t mind him,” she whispered into his ear.  “I’ll explain later, ‘kay?”

Jack nodded slightly and smiled as Rose pulled away with a twinkle in her gorgeous whiskey-coloured eyes.  How had she known how the Doctor reacted with her back to him?  Then again, she wouldn’t have needed to see grumpy blue-eyed and leathered Doctor to guess how he’d react.  Jack hadn’t spent enough time with Rose and the new Doctor in the Prime universe to notice any difference, but obviously his overprotective behaviour toward Rose had carried through regeneration and metacrisis.  

As Rose backed away to take her place on the Doctor’s right, delicately slipping her hand into his, a glimmer drew attention to her left hand.  Seasoned Time Agent and con-artist that he once was, Jack kicked himself for not noticing the obvious almost immediately.  Of course the Doctor bristled at his saucy greeting.  With a practiced eye, Jack recognised the stone immediately as a rare and extremely valuable White Point Star from Gallifrey.  The value of that one relatively small stone was almost incalculable in the Prime universe.  He could easily have retired from black-marketing altogether if he had been lucky enough to get his hands on one of those.  A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he silently congratulated Rose on landing her man.  He’d always known the Doctor had a thing for her.  A pity he couldn’t say the same of himself, he thought wryly.

Garrulous and glib as always, the Doctor used oral sleight of hand to try to distract Pete and Jackie from the thunderous silence and palpable tension between the two men.  He regaled his tablemates with a lively tale of his first encounter with the Mara on the planet Manussa, pointing out how he was as blonde in his fifth form as little Tony.  A stern stare from the mistress of the house, her eyes flicking back to the staring contest a few feet from her, told the Doctor that his desperate tactics weren’t working out too well.

“Them two rowing now?” asked Jackie impatiently, not waiting for the end of the story.  She tossed her table napkin onto her plate to signal the end of the meal, and then took a deep draught from her ornately etched wine goblet before fixing the pair with an expectant look.

Pete squirmed and gave Jack an apologetic eye roll.  “Uhm, Jacks, let’s not jump to conclusions, eh?  They’re all adults an’ can act professionally on a Torchwood mission.”

“Himself over there has been shootin’ nasty looks at Jack since he got here,” she said pointedly.  “You’re expectin’ them three to spend two whole weeks together?  What were you thinkin’?”

“It was the Doctor’s idea,” Pete said quickly in defence.  

“Oi,” breathed the Doctor, shrinking down into his chair with a pout.  “I take it back.”

“Too late,” Pete said with another eye roll.

“It’s my punishment for trying to shoot him, Jackie,” said Hal evenly, glancing unapologetically at Harkness.

Jack gave her a meltingly suave smile, bright blue eyes twinkling teasingly as he leaned forward to place his elbows on the table.  “It could be your reward if you let it, darling.”

Hal snorted, but much to Jack’s surprise, she didn’t otherwise rise to his bait.  A subtle enigmatic smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah, heard all ‘bout it,” Jackie said with a snort.  “Pulled a big gun right outa your trousers an’ tried to blow a bleedin’ hole in his head.  How’d you fit a gun into them tight jeans you wear, anyway?”

“Is that really important, Jackie?” Pete asked in irritation.  “It’s over now, an’ nothing like that is ever gonna happen again.  Right?” he asked Hal with a glare.

“Right, Pete,” she responded without so much as a blink.  She wasn’t exactly showing undue remorse, either, Jack noted.

“So, now that the Doctor and Rose here are a proper couple, are the two of ya sharin’ a separate tent?” asked Jackie. “How’s that gonna work out for ya?”

“Jackie!” hissed Pete, a pink tinge rising above his collar. He watched as a corner of Jack’s mouth twitched slightly in response.  The alternate Torchwood leader’s chiselled jaw muscles flexed, but he avoided meeting Rose’s quick glance.

“No, Pete, really.  It’s hard enough to spend every minute together for two weeks when you’re getting’ along,” continued Jackie.

“How well I know that,” Pete said under his breath.

Jackie fixed him with a hard glance.  “What’s that mean?” she asked in a tight voice, fists closing spasmodically.

“I’ll sleep outside,” Hal said softly and quickly, craftily drawing the spotlight back to herself.  Pete’s shoulders slumped perceptibly in relief as Jackie’s attention shifted.  He gave Hal a fractional nod, gratitude written on his long features.

“What?!?” mumbled Jack, frowning.  He hadn’t expected Hal to willingly share a tent with him, but her solution seemed extreme and a bit ludicrous.  He ruefully admitted to himself that it stung, nevertheless.  It was one thing to object to his presence, but another to profess exposing oneself to the elements in preference to being in the same space.

“Hal, that’s not necessary!” said Rose.  “You can stay with us in our tent.  We won’t have you sleepin’ outside with the animals an’ scorpions an’ stuff.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened as he gaped in shock.  “Noooooo,” he mouthed, shaking his head.  Rose blinked, but casually dismissed his protest with a curt wave.

“No scorpions at that elevation,” shrugged Hal.  “Coyotes, grey wolves, elk, antelope, ravens, jackrabbits, cottontails, Western diamondback rattlesnakes, blister beetles, and the occasional tarantula.  No scorpions.”  She smiled sweetly at the look of complete horror crossing over Jackie Tyler’s face.

“But it’ll be cold at night, Hal,” Rose countered.  “I checked, an’ the temperature will drop close to zero degrees after midnight.”

Tony, who had been quietly absorbing the conversation amongst the adults while he planted army green toy soldiers into his mound of mash and occasionally tossing tidbits of meat to Kaster near the doorway, suddenly joined in.

“Fur will keep Auntie Hal warm,” he said, not even bothering to look up.

Foreheads crinkled around the table as the adults exchanged astonished glances.  Rose turned to watch Jack, who sat with an inscrutably vague expression on his handsome features.  His focus seemed to be Hal, who was doing her best to fade quietly back into her chair.

“Did you…?” started the Doctor, pointing vaguely in Tony’s direction, but looking to each of them in turn.

“Nope,” said Rose, “an’ pointin’ is rude, Doctor.”

Pete and Jackie shook their heads slowly, not quite knowing what to say.  They were far too shocked by Tony’s pronouncement to ask themselves if Captain Harkness was aware of Hal’s nature.  He was, at Rose’s insistence, one of Rose’s closest friends and confidants and a Torchwood leader, albeit from a parallel universe.  Feeling comfortable enough with Harkness’ presence, he decided to delve further into his son’s uncanny outburst.

“Tony, lad,” Pete said gently as he looked down the table to the little tyke, “what kind of fur?”  Silently, Pete was praying that Tony would answer “mink” or anything equally detachable.

“ _Her_ fur, Dad,” he said, brows furrowing and dashing Pete’s hopes.  “Pretty fur.  Kinda brown and yellowy.  You know… when she’s a wolf.”

Hal blanched and slumped further down into her chair, almost as if ready to disappear beneath the table.  She felt exposed under the sharp regard of Captain Harkness, whose chin jutted forward in a silent coup.  

He gave her a bold knowing look from bright blue twinkling eyes under long lashes, well aware that he had the shifter at a singular disadvantage in front of the entire Tyler family.   How easy it would be to watch her squirm uncomfortably, wondering when, or if, he would reveal their little late night ‘games’ that involved testing his immortality… over and over again.  The wolf form, in particular, still haunted his dreams.

Then again, Jack was equally aware that the situation provided him an opportunity to prove to the pretty shifter that he was not a threat. He would keep his own counsel for now, not so much as a threat, but as proof that he could be trusted without resorting to intimidation.

“Alright, that’s enough,” shouted Jackie.  “I wanna know what’s goin’ on with my boy.  What’s all this bosh about lions an’ wolves an’ whatnot, eh?”  She directed her tirade toward the Doctor, who immediately blanched.

“Why are you looking at me?” whinged the Doctor, wide-eyed.  

“You said you’d talk to him an’ find out,” insisted Jackie, pointing a jabbing finger at little Tony.  Tony’s cherubic cheeks brightened up as he leaped from his chair to stand next to the Doctor, eager to finally be the centre of attention amongst the stuffy old adults.  He stared up expectantly into the Doctor’s face, biting his lip in anticipation.

“Uhm, Jackie, I think this would best be done in the family room, don’t you think?” suggested the Doctor.  “And I would suggest you leave this to myself, Rose and Hal, if you’ll trust us?”

“Why can’t he say what he has to say in front of us,” demanded Jackie a little defensively.  “What’s so weird about it that he can’t talk in front of his own Mum and Dad?”

“Mum, it’s not so much that it’s weird an’ stuff, but it may sound really weird comin’ from a child, yeah?  The Doctor may understand Tony better, because he’s… uhm… the Doctor,” stammered Rose.  She ignored Hal’s aborted snicker and Jack’s chuckle.  Ignoring the Doctor’s pout was a little bit more difficult, given his mental nudge of protest.

“It’ll be alright, Jacks,” soothed Pete.  “Rose and the Doctor won’t let anything happen to Tony, you know that.”

“An’ Hal?” she asked with a penetrating stare at the silent shifter.

“I would die to protect Tony,” Hal solemnly swore, meeting Jackie’s stare with equal passion.  Jackie slowly relaxed, accepting Hal’s oath with a nod.

“See to it that you keep your promise, and I don’t want nobody muckin’ about in his head unless necessary,” said Jackie sternly.  “I’ve seen you guys talkin’ amongst yourselves without talkin’, so don’t tell me you ain’t doin’ that telephony thing.”

“Right, right…,” said the Doctor with an exaggerated nod.  “No telephony unless necessary.  Got it.”

The entire family, with Jack in tow, retreated to the den.  Jack, who had been quietly pensive at being left out, brightened perceptibly when Pete slipped behind the bar to retrieve a bottle of top shelf bourbon and several glasses.  With a head gesture, he led Jack and Jackie down the hallway toward the library, leaving the trio alone with Tony and one curious Rottweiler puppy.  Kaster seemed intent on lapping every molecule of food from the youngster’s fingers as Tony giggled hysterically.

“That’s enough, Kaster,” Hal murmured to the pup, dragging him onto her lap as she sat next to Tony on the big leather sofa.  Rose settled into position on Tony’s other side, a few wrinkles of worry marring her normally smooth forehead.  She watched the Doctor intently as he plopped down on a large hassock in front of the four year-old and leaned forward to tousle his blonde locks.  Tony sobered and straightened up, seemingly aware that he was now the centre of attention.

“So, Tony, lad,” said the Doctor with a harrumph, “let’s talk a bit about some of the stories you’ve been telling us.”

Tony shook his head in a comical circular motion that wasn’t quite an affirmation or a denial.  “They’re not stories!” he said quietly with a faint pout of disappointment.  “They’re real.  I see stuff.”

The Doctor shot Hal a look, which immediately caused Rose to stiffen.

“Oh, no… No, you don’t!” Rose insisted with a slow headshake.  “Mum said no telepathy, remember?”

“Actually, ‘no telephony’ is what she said,” responded the Doctor, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially.  

“You know what she meant,” Rose growled.  “You’re not havin’ Hal riffle through his head without her permission.  She’ll take us all apart, an’ you know it.”

Shoulders slumping, the Doctor gave a long sigh.  “It’s going to take an awfully long time to get a four year-old to explain anything to us, much less complex imagery that he himself doesn’t understand.”

“Don’t care,” Rose retorted with a sharp shake of her head.  “Mum’s gotta trust us with him, an’ that ain’t gonna happen if we break her rules on the first go.  I know Hal won’t hurt him, but Mum doesn’t know that for sure, yet.”

Sighing again, the Doctor turned back to Tony, who was watching him patiently, clearly waiting to get the Doctor’s full attention.

“So young man, let’s start with Auntie Hal over there,” the Doctor said with a casual point to Hal, who shifted into a more relaxed pose.  “Why do you think she turns into a wolf and has fur?”

Dimples broke out over the youngster’s face in delight.  

“I seen her!  I mean, I… saw her,” he correct himself.  “When she was runnin’ in the trees an’ chasin’ Cap’n Jack.  She runs _fast!”_

The Doctor pretended he didn’t notice Hal freezing into place, her hand abruptly stopping its slow stroke across Kaster’s broad head.  Attuned to her every breath the pup gazed up to her in a silent question.

“You were in the woods with Auntie Hal?”

“Noooo… I was in bed,” said Tony, shaking his head so rapidly that his pageboy locks flew up into a halo around his head.  “I _saw_ her.  You know… in my head!  Not with my eyes.”  He poked a chubby finger into an eyelid in demonstration, almost gouging himself.

“In a dream, then?”

Tony frowned and bit his bottom lip in thought.  “No, not a dream.  It wasn’t a dream, it was _real_.”

“But Tony, how do you know it wasn’t a dream?” asked Rose gently.  “Sometimes dreams seem real and scary.” 

“I _know_ , Rose,” insisted Tony.  “But I can tell.  I can tell when it’s not a dream.  Like when you saw the big, big lion, Uncle Doctor.”

Unable to stop a tiny smile from cracking his cheek, the Doctor gazed fondly on the tyke.  He never quite grew tired of hearing little Tony call him “Uncle Doctor,” a moniker the child himself had chosen.  He had blushed furiously the first time Tony had called him that, providing Pete and Jackie considerable amusement at his cost.

“Where did you see the lion, Tony?” asked the Doctor quietly.

“You know.  You were there, Uncle Doctor!”  Tony’s face screwed up in concentration.  “I don’t know where it was.  It was red an’ there was two suns.  One was really, really big.  An’ there was a big white wolf, too.  She talked to you, but I don’t understand what she said.  Somethin’ ‘bout a storm?”  He cocked his head in puzzlement, looking to the Doctor as if expecting an explanation.

Leaning back slightly, lips parted in surprise, the Doctor locked eyes with Rose.

“The Storm must tame the Wolf,” he murmured, eyes a bit unfocused in memory.  “The Wolf must temper the Storm.”

“What?” Rose said in a breathy gasp.

“Yeah, that’s what they said!” Tony exclaimed in excitement.  “Why’d they say that, Uncle Doctor?  The singing lady, she won’t tell me.”

“Singing lady?” the Doctor almost whispered.  “What singing lady, Tony?”

“You know, you hear her, too!”   He chewed on his bottom lip in frustration, staring into the Doctor’s eyes and silently pleading with him to understand.

“She’s… she’s got messy hair,” Tony added, waving his hands over his head.  “An’ she lives in a box.  A blue box.  She tells me things sometimes.”

Eyes wide, the Doctor gaped at the little boy and promptly fell off his perch with a thump.  His mouth worked silently as he tried to catch his breath, in contrast to Rose’s rasping gulps of air as she hyperventilated.

“A blue box?” Rose asked hesitantly after a few seconds.  “What kind of blue box, Tony?”

He shrugged, clearly disinterested in said box.  Tony didn’t see how the blue box really had much to do with his story.

“Dunno,” he finally said.  “Kinda like a cupboard?  It has writing on the top an’ a light that blinks.”

“That’s… that’s impossible,” breathed the Doctor, still splayed on his backside on the carpet.  Struggling weakly to get his feet beneath him, he gave Rose a meaningful look before gingerly resuming his place on the hassock.  He was so pale that the freckles on his cheeks stood out even within the soft lighting in the room.

“Obviously not,” said Hal, shifting Kaster off her lap to her side.  “Has he ever seen the TARDIS?”

“No, he has not,” said the Doctor with a headshake.  “He’s never seen her, although we may have talked about her in his presence.  But who is this woman with the messy hair?  Could it be Donna?”

Rose frowned.  “Donna doesn’t have messy hair.  Is the woman ginger, Tony?  Ya know, does she have red hair?” she asked the child directly.

“Nah-uh,” said Tony emphatically.  “’Es sort of brown.  Really, really brown.”

“Dark brown, like chocolates?” asked Rose.

“Yeah.”

“So much for that,” sighed the Doctor.  “This woman, did she tell you her name?”

Forehead crinkling in concentration, Tony stared into space for a moment.  His hazel-brown eyes turned unfixed as all three adults leaned forward in concern.

“Tony?” Rose asked in a quiet voice, becoming a bit alarmed.  She shot the Doctor, who was facing him, an imploring look.

“Tony, lad?” he said, reaching to grasp the tyke gently by the shoulders to get his attention.  The boy snapped back into the present and fixed his focus on the Doctor.

“She says you call her ‘Old Girl’,” Tony told him with a smile.  “She says you have her baby.”

The Doctor didn’t breath for several seconds, frozen in stunned silence.  “Impossible…,” he finally muttered on a breath.

“That’s what you call the TARDIS,” Rose whispered.  “How can he know that?  How can he know any of this?  He’s got to be pickin’ it up telepathically from us, right?  It doesn’t make any sense, otherwise.”

Hal shook her head in confusion.  “He’s not a strong telepath.  I don’t see how he could get it from you,” she surmised.  “But he’s obviously tapping into something.  But what?  And how?  Could he really be in communication with the TARDIS somehow?”

“Impossible,” the Doctor repeated, although he wasn’t at all too sure of himself.  

“But you told me you thought you heard the TARDIS singing,” said Rose.

“That was in a dream.”

“Was it?” prodded Hal.  “How sure are you that it was only a dream?”

A forlorn look washed over the Doctor’s face as he recalled those fleeting moments on the border of sleep and wakefulness, when the hauntingly familiar song of his oldest companion seemed to reach across the Void to brush against him before disappearing as he roused.

“I can’t feel her, Hal.  Don’t you think I’ve tried, over and over again?  I’m telepathically linked to her.  If anyone should be able to communicate with her, it should be me.  But I can’t reach her across the Void.  It’s quite impossible.  I can hear Baby Girl every waking moment, but not the TARDIS.  She’s gone.”

Hal averted her eyes from the stricken look on the Doctor’s face, fully aware that he still grieved for the TARDIS.  She had been his closest and constant companion for well over seven-hundred years. In typical Doctor-ish stoicism, he had carefully hidden how badly he suffered her loss, but not so successfully from Rose and Hal.

“Perhaps,” Hal said gingerly, “it’s because you are not the child of two different universes.”

“What?!?” asked the Doctor, blinking owlishly in surprise.

“Oh, what if she’s right?” Rose exclaimed, leaning forward.  “Think about it, yeah?  Mum was born in Prime, jus’ as all three of us lot were.  Dad, this dad, he was born here in Pete’s World.”

“But Tony was born here, in Pete’s World,” rebutted the Doctor.

“But don’t’cha see,” said Rose in earnest, “it’s like when we first came here to Pete’s World and the TARDIS lost all power from her trip through the Void.  You said she was cut off from the energy she needed from the other universe, an’ ya’ had to give her your own life energy to repair and recharge.  Remember?”

Sitting slack-jawed in deep thought, the Doctor pulled at his hair absently as he struggled to make a mental connection.  The answer floated just beyond his reach as he mentally sifted through a plethora of possibilities.

“He’s still not getting it,” groused Hal with an eye-roll.

“Doctor, listen…,” said Rose, reaching to tap him on a knee.  “What if Mum’s life energy is from Prime an’ Pete’s life energy is from here?”

“Yeah?” he drawled slowly, wondering why Rose was pointing out the overly obvious to him.

Rose and Hal both gestured toward Tony with upturned palms and an expectant look.  Following their gestures, the Doctor did a rapid double-take and stared at Tony as if he’d seen him for the very first time.

“Ooooh,” he breathed, finally comprehending.  “Oh, oh, oooooh!  Why didn’t I think of that?!?  He’s inherited the combined energies of both parallel universes!  He’s like a… a… Trans-Void Multiversal Hybrid!  He may well be the only one in all of existence, Rose!”

Rose narrowed her eyes.  “That’s my brother you’re talkin’ about, Doctor.  An’ he’s sittin’ right there in front of ya.”

“Oh, right, right,” he said contritely.  He patted Tony affectionately on the top of his head with a manic grin.

“You’re brilliant!” he chortled to the child, who broke out into a big grin to match.  “And so is your big sister and Auntie Hal.  You’re all so brilliant!”

“Thank God,” muttered Hal under her breath.

“So is the singin’ lady your Mum, Uncle Doctor?” asked Tony, head cocked to the side innocently and oblivious to the sneer the Doctor directed over his head.

“Err, well… sort of,” stumbled the Doctor.  “Not exactly, but in a strange kind of way… Well, ‘es hard to explain.”

“But the other Doctor… is he kinda your brother?”

“You saw the other Doctor?” he asked as he stilled.  “He looks like me?”

Tony chewed at his lip.  “Sometimes,” he replied.  “Sometimes he’s different.  The lady says he does that a lot.”

“What does he look like when he doesn’t look like me?” the Doctor asked intently.

“You sure you want to know that?” interrupted Hal.  He nodded almost imperceptibly, but didn’t glance up.  

Tony looked down at the floor in thought.  “Sometimes he has floppy hair an’ he don’t have no eyebrows!” he giggled.

“No eyebrows?!?” frowned the Doctor.

“Yeah, an’ this huuuuge chin!” Tony demonstrated with his hands held at arm’s length from his own tiny chin.

Hal gave out a huge snort and a guffaw, but tried to hide it behind a hand.

“I’m sorry… I picked up the image from him without even trying,” she choked out.  “I swear, I wasn’t trying!!  But be glad you don’t regenerate anymore.  Just sayin’.”

“You mean it’s a new face?” he asked Hal in consternation.

Hal’s mirth subdued, she nodded.  “It’s not one I recognise from your memories,” she said.

“But once, he was old, too” said Tony soberly.

“Old?!?” the Doctor said weakly.  “He had an old man’s face?”

“Well, not old, old.  Just kind of wrinkly sort of,” retracted Tony a tad.  “His hair was kind of white.”

“Completely white?”

“No, not white, white.  More like kind of grey,” the four year-old tried to explain.

The Doctor scrubbed furiously at his forehead.  “Blimey, he’s running through regenerations like they’re a dime a dozen!”

“He may not be seeing things in linear fashion, Doctor,” Hal said reassuringly.

“But it shouldn’t matter,” he said with a shake of his head.  “He should only have one regeneration left.  One last body, not two.”

“But… but,” Rose stammered, “you were the Tenth Doctor.  Shouldn’t there be three more?”

Rose checked herself, eyes glazing as a memory surged to her consciousness.  “Oh, wait… two more.  I… I forgot about _Him._ ”

“You forgot because I tried to forget,” he acknowledged softly.  “But there is one more you’re not counting.”

“Who?” Rose said with a frown.

“Me,” he answered simply.

“But you aborted that regeneration.  I was there.  I saw it.  You stopped it before you changed an’ shifted the energy to your hand.”

“It still counted as a regeneration, Rose.  A Time Lord gets twelve, and that’s a full cycle.  So he should have only one regeneration left,” the Doctor explained.

“So who is the second face Tony is seeing?” asked Hal.

He shook his head, looking down at the blonde tyke who regarded him with eyes far too wise for a mere four year-old.

“No clue,” he said in a low voice.  “Any idea, young man?” he asked Tony, not truly expecting an answer.

As expected, Tony shrugged.

“The lady told me where you can go to see your brother, though,” Tony announced as unexpectedly.

All three of the adults’ jaws dropped in astonishment, just as Jackie walked into the entrance.

“Time for Tony to get to bed,” Jackie stated sternly.  “It’s an hour past his bedtime!”

“Jackie, no, please!” pleaded the Doctor.  “He’s… he’s… uhm… jus’ got to the good part of his story, haven’t you, Tony?”

Tony gave a gargantuan yawn and stretched.  “I can tell you tomorrow,” he said sleepily.  He pointed over to an equally drowsy Kaster, whose head was dipping precariously over the edge of the sofa. 

“Can Kaster sleep in my bed tonight?” he asked sweetly.

“If your Mum is ok with that,” Hal said with an inquiring look to Jackie, who nodded her assent.

“All of you lot can spend the night, if you want,” added Jackie.  “Ya know you’re always welcome here, an’ ya know which rooms are available, so take take whichever ya want.”

Rose exchanged glances with the Doctor, which did not go unnoticed by the eagle-eyed Jackie Tyler.

“Yeah, I know the two of ya are shackin’ up, so don’t be lookin’ all coy at me!” said Jackie a bit too loudly.  “Your room is still the same way ya left it, Doctor, so don’t mind me.  Jus’ don’t wake me up in the middle of the night, understand?”

The Doctor gave Jackie a sloppy salute and sighed, watching as Hal gave Kaster an almost crushing goodnight hug.  Pup and child rounded the corner with Jackie before the Doctor let out a breath.

“This… _this_ is like the _worst_ cliff-hanger of all cliff-hangers throughout the galaxies,” he moaned.  “I simply cannot _believe_ Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Prentice Tyler chose that _exact_ moment to walk through that door and take Tony away!”

“Yeah, well, that’s me Mum,” sighed Rose.  “Impeccable timin’ for knowin’ when to walk in when ya have a boyfriend over.”

“Thanks for that,” said the Doctor dryly after a beat.  “No nookie for you under this roof, young lady.”

Rose snickered and stuck her tongue out at the Doctor in jest.

“Oh, I don’t know…,” she teased him.

“Ah, speaking of cliff-hangers,” said Hal, her finger pointedly in the air.  “You remember I said I’d tell you what was bothering me at the house?”

“Yeah, what was that ‘bout?  You disappeared with Kaster, an’ then you came back kinda rattled,” Rose said with crinkled brow.

“Well, the smell he sensed from you?  It wasn’t sex he smelled on you.”

“No? What was it?” asked Rose.  “That’s a relief.”

“You’re pregnant,” Hal announced bluntly.

“Oh…,” Rose said, pulling absently at her bottom lip.  “Guess that’s why I’m cravin’ ice cream right now.”

They both jumped at the sound of a loud thud in front of them.  The Doctor had fallen backwards off the hassock in a dead faint.


	42. You're Having My Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten II and Rose have a misunderstanding and struggle to bridge the gap between words and feelings.

 

Rose woke slowly and stretched, her eyes still closed as she reached over automatically to wrap an arm around the slumbering form next to her.  A frown contorted her face as a taut sheet pressed against her inner arm, preventing her from touching cool skin and prickly hair.  Opening her eyes just a crack, she saw a landscape of nothing but stark white linens.

Startled, Rose sat upright, looking down on a stiffly recumbent figure fully shrouded in sheeting, not unlike a cadaver in a morgue with face covered, arms held straight alongside torso, and toes pointed upwards.  Only the faint psychic warmth buzzing in the back of her mind let her know that she was not sharing a bed with the dead.

Propped on an elbow, she poked an exploratory finger none too gently into the enwrapped motionless body, aiming somewhere within the vicinity of a rib.

“Oww.  Stop,” complained the figure.

Rose grinned, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her teeth.

“Are you my mummy?” she asked with a giggle.

“No,” replied the muffled voice in a low tone.  “I am most definitely _not_ your mummy.”

With an evil smirk, Rose slid her hand down the figure’s torso and gave a squeeze.  Immediately it sat bolt upright with a squeak, the top of the sheet sliding down to reveal a very rumpled Doctor with hair even more insanely spikey than normal.  

“Nope, don’t feel like my mummy, that’s for sure,” snorted Rose.

“This is not happening, Rose Tyler,” pouted the Doctor as he straightened his tshirt.  Untangling the sheet, he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and stood.  Rose admired the taut, lean muscles rippling beneath a pair of dark blue silk boxers printed with a celestial theme of stars and crescent moons.  She couldn’t hide the mild disappointment in her eyes.

The Doctor shook his head as he turned around to face her.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.  “Jackie’s gonna kill me as it is.”

“She won’t kill you.”

“One moan, and she’ll come storming through that door with an ax.  No!  She won’t need any weapons but those artificial nails she gets glued on.  Pluck my eyes right out an’ roll ‘em across the floor,” he said with a shudder.

“Not if she knows you’re her grandbaby’s father,” Rose countered.

“Oh, right, right.  She’ll pull Mr Happy right off at the root, then kill me. Very, very slowly.”

“Oh, of course not,” smirked Rose as she stalked across the bed toward the reluctant Time Lord.  “She wanted us together, or so she told ya, yeah?”

“Oh, no doubt she wants us together, Rose,” said he.  “But I think she wanted it to go a bit more linear.”

“Linear?”

“Yeah…  Like, date a respectable while, get engaged, get married with a white dress an’ tons of posh guests, go on a honeymoon an’ _then_ , and _only_ then, start having babies.  So, now how do we tell her we tossed her project plan out the window?”

“Hmmm,” hummed Rose in thought.

“Oh, I know!” he said facetiously.  “Oh, Jackie, we got married in a hurry through an ancient Gallifreyan rite _without you there_ , jumped each other in a downtown bed and breakfast, got engaged, started living in sin, and _BAAM_!  Your daughter is up the duff with a half-alien baby in a matter of only days!”

“More like one-quarter alien, really,” muttered Rose.

“Not helping,” he sighed.  

“You’re right,” she agreed.  “Prob’ly wouldn’t help for Mum to hear that.  But you’re family now.  She won’t kill ya….  I don’t think.”

“Oh, that’s terribly encouraging,” the Doctor said, clearly not encouraged at all by Rose’s back-pedaling.

Rose began to feel a bit uneasy with the tone of their conversation, and a niggling doubt started to creep into her chest.  She sat upright with legs crossed, and placed her hands gently against her still flat and toned abdomen beneath her spaghetti-strapped midriff pyjama top. 

“At least Hal is happy about the baby,” she murmured a little listlessly.  

The Doctor’s head snapped up, his heart momentarily skipping a beat as anxiety pulsed through his veins, startled by the disillusionment on the edge of Rose’s voice.  The quiet uneasiness pulsing through their bond frightened him.  Without thought, he found himself on his knees next to the bed; widened brown eyes searching her features.

“Rose…,” he began with a loud swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing spasmodically, “what is it?  What did I just say?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Rose said with a wan smile.  She shook her head to try to reassure him, but she didn’t meet his eyes.  She could feel the faint prickle of tears building, but she tried to hold them back.  The swirl of conflicting emotions within her chest defied description and all logic.  She knew in the depths of her soul that the Doctor wanted their child, but the words that had reached her ears rattled that conviction to its core.

Taking both her hands into his, the Doctor pulled them closer and placed feathery kisses to the knuckles.  Rose looked up to meet sorrowful dark chocolate orbs, and the floodgate of tears ruptured silently.

“Rose,” whispered the Doctor brokenly.  “What’s wrong?  Talk to me, please!  Whatever it is I said to upset you, I didn’t mean it.  You have to know that.”

Reaching out through their bond, Rose felt the Doctor reflexively retreat, and a sob of frustration and fear escaped her.

“I don’t know,” she cried.  “I don’t understand it.  Don’t ya want this baby?  Why do I have to tell you what ‘m thinkin’ an’ feelin’ when we’re bonded, eh?  Shouldn’t we jus’ _feel_ what each other is feelin’?  Why do we have’ta talk about it now?”

His mouth working soundlessly as he gaped, the Doctor seemed momentarily stunned.  He stared for several seconds at Rose’s abdomen, barely breathing.  

“Rose, how could you possibly think I don’t want our baby?” he asked in a hushed tone as he once again looked intently into her eyes.  “Didn’t you feel the joy in my hearts… I mean, heart… when I woke up on the floor?  I didn’t even notice the big lump on the back of my head.”

She nodded slightly, suddenly feeling a bit silly and melodramatic.

“Ya seem to be doin’ that a lot these days,” she teased gamely.

Rising to sit on the edge of the bed, never releasing his grip on both of Rose’s hands, he stared deeply into her eyes more intensely than she’d ever experienced before.  There was a concerned seriousness about him, and he seemed not to want to join in any banter as he took a deep breath.

“There is nothing, in all of my lives, that I’ve ever wanted more than this baby, Rose Tyler… Except you.  You are the only thing in all of Time, in all the multiverses, that means more to me.  I swear that to you on all that is sacred.”

Rose bit her lip as his words moved more moisture to pool at the base of her lashes, then spill over her cheeks to run rivulets down to her chin.  Reaching up to wipe the track of tears away, the Doctor lovingly cupped her cheek in his hand.  The depth of emotion burned in his eyes, so ancient and eternal that her breath caught in her throat.  She felt a tingle, like elusive sparks on her skin where his palm cradled her face; the bond between them flared with the force of their swirling cauldrons of raging emotion.  

His hesitancy gone in a flash, the essence of the Doctor flooded her mind to fill the aching dark holes of hurt.  She in turn soothed the turbulent waters of his dis-ease, smoothing away the painful mental bruises her distress had caused him.  Melting into his arms with a soft cry, Rose clutched him tightly as he held and slowly rocked her.  They stayed that way for several minutes, gradually reaching an equilibrium of relative calmness.

“I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered into her ear.  “I never think about what I say, about how it might affect you.  I’m such a git sometimes.”

“’s ok,” Rose said in absolution.  “I don’ understand why it hurt me so much. Don’ know why I questioned somethin’ I knew without a doubt.”

“No, it’s not ok,” he replied.  “Just because we’re bonded doesn’t give me leave to say whatever pops into my head without thinking about how it sounds.  This is all new to me, too, Rose.  I’ve never been bonded before in a marital bond.  You’re my first,” he said with a wry smile.  Rose could feel the twitch of his upturned lip against her ear.

Rose leaned back as the Doctor reluctantly loosened his clasp around her torso.  She slid her hands down to the top of her knickers and placed them flat against her belly.  She looked up to him again, a wondrous smile creeping across her features.

“We’re going to have a baby,” she enunciated slowly, a feeling of awe washing over her.

“We are,” he whispered, equally in a state of reverence.

He slid his hand down beneath hers, burrowing his fingers just below the band of her knickers, and closed his eyes.

“Can’t feel it yet,” he said quietly with eyes still closed.  “May be another three weeks or so.” 

“Hal says she may be able to feel it in a couple of weeks, maybe?”

He opened his eyes and nodded.  “Could be.  She’s a much more powerful telepath and has some experience at it.  There’s also a good chance, given the accelerated fertilisation and implantation phases so far, that the embryo may follow a more typical Time Lord gestational period.”

“What’s that mean?”

He rubbed at the back of his neck and grimaced.

“Well, without the restraints brought on by gradual womb growth, nutritional resources, maternal circulatory compensation…”

“Speak plain English, would ya?” Rose cut in.

“Well, you know how a normal human baby gestates for nine months?”

“Yeah?”

“Time Lord babies were designed to develop more quickly in looms, since the looms could more easily compensate in capacity and delivery of nutritional requirements than a biological body; you know, the mother’s body,” he blurted out.  “And due to the more superior biology of Time Lords, it would have taken twenty-four months or more for gestation, if growth was at the pace of a human’s.”

Rose fixed him with a slightly stern stare.

“How long, Doctor?”

“Weeeell, it sort of depends,” he drawled.  

“On what?”

“Well, whether the baby is pre-dominantly human in DNA or has more TNA,” he answered hesitantly.

“How. Long,” Rose repeated.

“Uhm, somewhere between six months and a year?” he said with a flinch, as if expecting a slap.

Rose narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if the Doctor was joking somehow.

“You’re just pontificatin’ now, aren’t ya?”

“No, of course not,” he responded quickly.  “Well, maybe.  Just a little.  I mean, there have been Time Lord — human hybrids occasionally, most of them… well, all of them, I think… genetically modified for the looms on Gallifrey.  They weren’t all that consistent in gestation, and many didn’t survive to full term.”

Eyes growing large in alarm, Rose gasped.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he responded rapidly, suddenly realising what he’d said.  “I’m sure we’re fine, Rose.  This baby was conceived naturally, not in a laboratory.  It wasn’t forced into being; it came about completely on its own, survived to implantation, and your body didn’t reject it.  According to the TARDIS, we were biologically compatible and obviously never needed medical intervention to conceive.  That’s completely different from what happened with the hybrids on Gallifrey.”

“Are you sure?” she asked shakily.

A smug glimmer lit up in the Doctor’s eye as he grinned at her.

“Rose, my superiorly potent and determined little swimmers, and your brilliantly valiant and equally determined eggs are destined to be together.  We got pregnant our first night, no doubt,” he crowed.  “Didn’t you feel the entire universe quake?  Of course, our baby will be fine.”

A broad smile spread slowly across Rose’s face, and then she dropped her head and gave a low chuckle.

“It’s gonna be one conceited little bugger, that’s for sure,” Rose nodded.  “Hope its head won’t be so big that it won’t come out.”

“ _Oi_ , it’s gonna be brilliant,” he grinned.

“With sticky-uppy brown hair,” she added.

“Or blonde, since I was blonde once.  Or red from Donna,” he said.  “Oooooh!  That would be _fantastic!_ Our baby could be _ginger_ , Rose!!  Just think of it.  Never got to be ginger myself, but my son could be!”

“Son?” Rose asked in surprise.

_“Oi!_   _I heard that!”_ came a shout from behind the door.  “Don’t you _dare_ be makin’ no babies in there, I’m tellin’ ya,” yelled Jackie, followed by loud banging that rattled the door on its hinges.  “You two need a proper weddin’ in a proper bleedin’ dress first.”

“Jackie Tyler, I am _not_ wearing a dress to my wedding,” the Doctor shouted back.  

“How much do’ya think she heard?” whispered Rose.

“Not much, or the door would be down by now,” giggled the Doctor.

“We should wait to tell her after we return from Arizona, yeah?”

“Good idea,” said the Doctor as he stood up and held his hand out to Rose.  She took the proffered hand and scooted out of the bed, the warmth of her eyes and the tingle along their bond generating a feeling of well-being once again.  He could still feel his heart racing a bit from the earlier fear and shock of their misunderstanding.  

They both jumped as the door rattled from another round of knocking.  Refusing to let go of her hand, the Doctor towed Rose with him to the door with a sigh.  He swung it open and stood stoically to cast Jackie a long-suffering look.  Clad only in tshirt and boxers, he didn’t seem to notice, or care about, Jackie’s flustered expression as her jaw dropped.  To her credit, she recovered quickly, tightening her terry robe about her and pulling herself together with a huff.

“Well, at least ya didn’t meet me at the door in Nature’s own, like ya did at that hotel in Cardiff,” she sniffed mildly.

“How’d you find out about that?” asked an astonished Doctor.

“Mmm, never you mind that,” Jackie replied with a knowing look.  “Hal’s downstairs at breakie all by herself an’ ready to get movin’, while Jack’s already ate an’ gone to pack ya gear onto the plane for tomorrow.”

“Well, I guess we best get a move on, yeah?” stated Rose.

“Allons-y!” grinned the Doctor.

“Oh, shut it,” groused Jackie.  “An’ put some trousers on, for Pete’s sake.”

“Got nothin’ to do with any of it, I keep tellin’ ya,” drifted a voice from down the hall.

“ _Oi!_ You, too!  Shut it!”

 


	43. Take It Easy

 

The soft thrum of a powerful engine and gentle swaying beneath her soothed Rose and kept her just below the threshold of sleep.  She could barely detect the faint whistle of wind, the quiet murmur of music, but her conscious mind barely registered the sounds.  Motion and white noise pulled her into a pleasant and restful drowsiness; as if she were an infant drifting in a timeless state of safety and comfort.  

A rumbling thump and a jostle roused Rose into semi-consciousness, making her aware of a tightness around her ribcage.  She sighed and stretched, eyes still closed, and the constriction squeezed her even more securely, like that of a boa constrictor wrapped around her chest.

Rose’s eyes flew open, coming to rest on the fuzzy grey headliner of a vehicle in a gloomy exterior.  Blinking blearily, she turned her head slightly to meet dark eyes gazing back at her, the almost black irises glittering and reflecting light spilling from the forward compartment.  Reclining with her was the Doctor.  A strong, wiry arm encircled her above the waist, while another cradled her head.

“Hi,” she said in a sleep-husky voice.

“Hello,” said the Doctor, mildly amused crinkles forming around his eyes.  “Are you awake already?  It’s not yet dawn.”

“Mmm,” she hummed.  “Dreamt I was still on the jet.  An’ a boa constrictor was holdin’ me, or somethin’.”

“Oooh, snakes on a plane.  Sounds sort of like a bad B-movie title,” he said before giving her a momentary tight squeeze.  “Can’t have you falling off the seat, now can we?” he added.

Rose chuckled and then attempted to sit up, but the Doctor seemed reluctant to release her.

“’M awake now,” she assured him, grasping one of his trouser legs to haul herself upright.  She sat, swinging her cramped legs down to the floorboard, only to land on something warm and furry.  A sharp yelp startled Rose fully awake.  Reflexively, she drew her legs under her and peered down.

Two large and rounded dark eyes looked back at Rose as a hand appeared from around the driver’s seat and searched blindly over the centre console.  

“Kas, are you ok?” asked Hal, who glanced back quickly, almost bumping heads with a curious Jack Harkness in the front passenger seat.

_S’okay_ _… just scared ‘cause I was sleeping and Rose stepped on me,_ replied the groggy pup.

“Oh, I’m so, so sorry!” exclaimed Rose, reaching down to rub Kaster apologetically behind his ears.  “I was asleep, too, an’ jus’ forgot you were down there.  You ok?”

_Yeah._

Craning up to reach Hal’s hand across the console, he licked the palm slowly and tenderly to reassure her.  

“Hey, both hands on the wheel, lady,” said Jack jokingly.  He leaned back into his seat, hoping her free hand didn’t connect with his face on its way back.  

Giving a gently loving squeeze to Kaster’s ear, Hal withdrew the hand and placed it back on the wheel without comment, much to the Doctor’s amazement.  From the reflection that he saw in the rear-view mirror, no one seemed more surprised than Harkness himself. 

“Where are we?” asked Rose with a covered yawn.

“Just west of Zuni Pueblo in New Mexico,” answered Hal.  “We’ll be over the border into Arizona in about 40 minutes.”

Peering into the darkness, Rose sighed.  “Not much to look at, is it?”

“That’s because it’s dark,” Hal said with a chuckle.  “During the day it’s gorgeous.  “Corn Mountain is a beautiful mesa with strikingly beautiful striations in reddish hues.  Its real name is _Dowa Yalanne_ in the native Zuni language, and is sacred to the Native Mexican tribe.”

“Oh, there are proper Indians here?” asked Rose excitedly.

“Well, we mustn’t call them ‘Indians’, Rose,” Hal said in a serious tone.  “Native Mexicans, or Native Americans in Prime, is the more politically correct term in general.  And the tribe in Zuni Pueblo, specifically, call themselves _A:shiwi_.”

“Ah-she-we?” Rose repeated slowly.  “What’s that mean?”

“As is common for most cultures, it translates to ‘the People’ in other languages.  The A:shiwi are the indigenous Pueblo people in this region and have inhabited the area for at least 4500 years.”

“Wow,” breathed Rose.  “Why haven’t I ever heard of ‘em?”

“Well, they are one of the smaller Pueblo tribes and speak an isolate language unlike that of the other Pueblo languages.  You may have heard of the Navajo and the Hopi?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rose said with a nod.  “Innit that where Kokopelli comes from, the Hopi?”

Hal laughed.  “Well, yes.  Kokopelli is a Native deity common amongst many of the Pueblo people, but the Hopi are probably associated with him more than most.”

“He has a really big _flute,_ ” whispered a silky and seductive voice into Rose’s ear.  She aimed an elbow at the Doctor’s ribs in a playful jab, but the tip of her tongue peeked out as she suppressed a self-conscious grin from breaking across her face.  Jack locked eyes with her before breaking into a soft giggle.

“What?!” Rose asked him, as innocently as she could muster.

“Lip reading is a great tool when you’re in the Agency,” smirked Harkness.  “Sort of like a big flute.”

Hal groaned her displeasure.  “Enough of that,” she growled.  “Don’t get him started, please, or I’ll pull over and one of you will be driving next.  The pheromones wafting from you three are positively stifling.”

“I’m just sittin’ here,” Jack protested with a laugh.

“And I don’t know where we’re going,” pouted the Doctor.  

“Hasn’t stopped you before, I’ve been told.”

“Oi, that’s not fair,” he whinged half-heartedly.  “ _I always_ knew where _I_ was going.  It’s the _TARDIS_ that took us on segues.”  

Rose gave him an eye roll.  “Ian Dury… werewolves in 1879 Scotland?  How ‘bout Elvis an’ the Queen’s coronation?  Oh, wait… Satan on an impossible planet ‘round a _black hole?”_ __

The Doctor fixed Rose with a wounded stare.

“The Devil wasn’t my fault,” he said with big puppy-dog eyes.  “We put the TARDIS controls on random, remember?  Actually, now that I think of it, wasn’t that _your_ idea, eh?  I think it was, Rose Tyler!”

“You met Satan?” Jack said, looking somewhat equally incredulous and envious.  “Really?”

Hal snorted.  “Why are you surprised?”

“Well… he wasn’t _properly_ Satan, you know,” said the Doctor, although he didn’t appear all that confident about the statement.

“Close enough,” Rose added, crossing her arms.  

Harkness leaned closer, eager to hear the whole story.  “What did he look like, Doc?  Horns?  Hooves?  Pointy tail?”

Grimacing in distaste, the Doctor scoffed at the former Time Agent.  “Pointy tail?!?” he snarked.  “How the devil would I know?  Didn’t get _that_ close, thank you very much.”

A choked laugh at his side distracted the Doctor as Rose lost all composure, pointing at the Doctor while bursting in a string of snorting guffaws.  

“How the devil would you know!  Oh, that’s funny!” she gasped.

“Oh, yeah, that’s hysterical,” he replied a tad bit snidely.  “Are we there yet?” he yelled loudly to Hal over the driver’s seat.

_I gotta pee_ , said Kaster meekly from the floorboard.

Hal groaned, hunching over the wheel in misery.  “And people wonder why I don’t want kids,” she muttered under her breath as she prepared to pull to the side of the road by flipping the turn signal.

                                       **********************************

The sky was brightening significantly to the East as they approached a lonely dirt road on the left of Hwy 191.  Hal slowed the Range Rover to a crawl, being careful not to make a sharp turn with a heavily-loaded trailer in tow.  The vehicle vibrated loudly as they moved over a red metal cattle guard, the trailer rattling alarmingly behind them.  Once fully onto the narrow gravel-covered road, she switched on the four wheel drive button on the vehicle’s console.

Rose pointed to the rolling, uneven ground to the left, noticing what looked like rounded granular piles of dried mud in varying hues of grey, orange and red.  Some of them formed rather large and steep hills only a short distance away.

“What are those, Hal?” she asked.  “They sort of look like pictures I’ve seen of the Painted Desert.”

“Those are cinder cones,” answered Hal with a nod as she eased the Rover up the steeply graded road covered with gravel.  “We’re actually on the edge of the Painted Desert at this segment of the road, so you are spot on.  As we reach a higher elevation, it will turn to a sandy loam with juniper forests.”

The road wound its way through sandy hills, the subgrade several feet lower than the surrounding area in places where banks of layered clay towered above the vehicle.  At the bottom of each hill were angled sharply ploughed berms for water run-off, but each berm was completely dry with powdery pale dirt.  The gravel turned to pure dirt and rocks as they progressed beyond the entrance to the poorly maintained primitive road.  Potholes were everywhere, rocking the vehicle and trailer almost constantly.  Dried coarse grass grew sparsely along the sides of the road, and the rolling nature of the landscape prevented them from seeing much beyond the next hill.  When they reached a flattened area a couple of miles from the entrance to the road, the view opened to a prairie-like grassy slope with what looked like dark green bushes in the distance.

“I can’t wait for some rain,” Jack remarked with a grin.  “I bet this road turns into a muddy mess!”

Hal nodded ahead, refusing to take a hand off the wheel due to the rough terrain.

“See those white plaques on the road ahead?” she asked.  “Those are hard-packed clay in the subgrade.  If it’s been awhile since the last rain, it will have a texture almost like corrugated metal.  They’re called ‘washboards’ for a reason, so get ready to bounce and vibrate.”

True to her word, the hard white clay beds shook the Rover like a terrier worrying a rat, and the booming sound of the suspension bottoming out was almost deafening.  Hal pulled slightly to the side and stopped, shaking her hands to relieve the numbness caused by the strongly vibrating steering wheel.

“Are we gonna be able to get through by this road?” asked Rose.

“Oh yeah,” laughed Hal.  “Welcome to the Mexican outback.  We’re on a provincial road right now, which means it’s better maintained than the private roads ahead.”

“This is better than the roads ahead?” asked the Doctor with a look of dismay.  “ _This_ road has kicked my bum but good already.  Won’t be able to sit for a week.” 

Hal turned to look at him with smirk.  She was tempted to make a comment about the boniness of the Time Lord’s nether regions, but decided it would be unwise in the presence of Jack Harkness.  Jack, she knew, would definitely take the remark to a whole new level.

“Be happy that Pete arranged a Range Rover with nice cushiony leather seats,” Hal told him.  “Had it been up to me, it would have been a Jeep with an even stiffer suspension and far less luxurious seating.  But I’ll take pity on you and speed up a bit.”

“Careful we don’t break an axle on one of those ruts,” Harkness reminded her.

Hal grinned broadly, ready to show Harkness just how skilled a driver she could be, even with hauling a large trailer.

“Not to worry.  I am used to this type of road and will be careful,” she said as she moved back to the centre of the dirt road and accelerated.  “I don’t relish walking fifteen miles to the next town.”

Remarkably, the ride smoothed out as Hal took the Rover between 40-45mph, weaving from side to side to avoid ruts at the base of berms and larger whitecaps of clay in the crowning centre.  She slowed significantly only as they approached and crossed the occasional metal or wooden cattle guard over dried streams.  

_Why won’t the cows go over those?_ asked Kaster as they passed over the last.  He had taken a precarious place on the seat opposite Rose and the Doctor, and seemed endlessly fascinated by the views through the window.  He had asked Hal to roll the window down, but due to the huge amount of dust kicked up by the Rover and trailer, she had refused.  He could smell the pungent odour of piney, resinous junipers and the earthiness of cow manure even as it was filtered by the recirculated cabin air.  With nose twitching constantly, he wanted nothing more than to stick his head out the open window and sniff the fresh air.

_Their hooves slip on the round metal rods of the cattle guard, and the holes between the wooden slats let them see the drop off below,_ answered Hal.  _It scares them and makes them think they’ll fall through._

_Why don’t they just jump?_ he asked, forehead crinkling in confusion.

_‘Cause they’re not as smart as you, Kaster,_ Hal proudly told him, giving him a mental caress.

She couldn’t help but notice that Kaster’s ability to communicate seemed to be growing in leaps and bounds.  Almost as if by osmosis, he now absorbed new words simply by listening to conversation around him.  Occasionally, he would ask what a word meant.  If given a mental image of an object to associate with the word, he generally didn’t forget it.  Abstract concepts were slightly more difficult for him, but that was true of even human children.  He never failed to impress everyone with his intelligence, and he’d managed to bond with Rose and the Doctor enough to communicate with them telepathically with a modicum of effort.

_Stupid cows,_ scoffed Kaster.  Pressing his nose against the cold glass, he snuffled uselessly in an effort to take in more of the tantalising scents that continued to elude him.  Wet nostril prints rapidly covered the window glass, some smeared in jagged lines as an unavoidable bounce sent the pup into the air, and occasionally to the floor.

As they climbed gradually higher, zigzagging on a course that only Hal seemed to know, the terrain continued to change.  The dark green evergreen ‘bushes’ revealed themselves to be towering juniper trees as they grew closer to the roads.  As tall as twenty or more feet in height, the lower branches of each wide base reached to the ground, giving the illusion of a bush at a distance.  Sparse at first, the junipers began to cluster as elevation increased.  No other vegetation, beyond the coarse prairie grass and weedy low growth, appeared to compete with the now dense juniper forest.  

“What elevation are we now?” asked the Doctor as he peered over the console to view the navigation system of the poshly equipped Range Rover.  “ _Oi,_ there’s no road showing up on the nav!” he noted with a surprised look at Hal.

“Private road now,” she explained.  “We left the provincial road about three miles back.  We’re at 5510 feet elevation now.  We’re almost there.”

A large wash, canyon-like with steep sides carved out by roaring waters, slowed them considerably as Hal gingerly navigated the Rover and trailer down and through it.  The first indication of any moisture darkened the wash’s bed.  With experienced skill, Hal shifted to a lower gear to climb up the back side of the wash, watching the side view mirror to check that the back end of the trailer didn’t bottom out on the descending edge of the wash.  With a roar, the Rover finally heaved itself and its load up and over the precipice.  

The bellows-like whoosh of three relieved breaths, let out simultaneously, sounded through the cabin of the Rover, much to Hal’s amusement.  The Doctor, Rose and Jack had held their breaths and silently _willed_ the Range Rover across the dry bed through much of the crossing.

“Ah, Ye of little faith,” Hal chided them in jest.  

“Ha!  Knew we’d make it through,” lied the Doctor.

“Sure you did.”

“No, really,” he insisted.  “I was just wondering if we had enough tow cable and harness for the unicorn to pull all of us and a trailer full of camping gear out of that big ditch.”

A loud high-pitched giggle erupted from Harkness, only seconds before he realised he wasn’t supposed to be familiar with Hal’s favourite forms.  Dodging a hard look from the petite shifter, Jack wiped the grin off his handsome features before taking a keen interest in his seat belt arrangement.  He cleared his throat.

“Uhm, thought we’d see elk here, not unicorns,” he mumbled, lips trembling in an effort not to break into another grin.  Hal’s deadly silence unnerved him somewhat, in spite of Rose’s and the Doctor’s titters in the back seat.  

“Uhm, _Chupacabra?!?”_ he ventured in a supremely lame effort to induce a smile from Hal.

_“Chupacabra?”_ Hal parroted back sharply.  “You want to see a Chupacabra?”

“Uh, yeah.  Mexico?  Mythical creature like an unicorn, right?”

Hal shook her head, but a slow smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she pressed the accelerator, gathering speed to climb the next considerably larger rise ahead of them.

_Oh, well done, Harkness_ , thought Jack grimly.  A sharp thump to the back of his seat interrupted his next thought.

“Now you’ve done it,” said the Doctor in a serious vein.  He turned to address Hal, who had turned back to the task of navigating around the many ruts and potholes, often crossing over to the opposite side of the road as the Rover lugged uphill.

“And you,” he began sternly to Hal.  “Try not to kill us all by going up a hill on the wrong side of the road.  How do you know there isn’t another vehicle approaching from the other side?”

Hal tapped her right temple and smiled to the Doctor from the rear view mirror.

“Not to worry.  I’ve cast a psychic net up ahead.  If there’s anyone there, or any wildlife large enough to damage the vehicle, I would know.  Besides, it’s the right side of the road to you imperialist Brits.  It’s only the wrong side of the road to the rest of the plebeian world.”

Both Jack and Rose chuckled while the Doctor’s mouth worked soundlessly in indignation.

“I am _not_ British!” he finally spat out.  “Even if I _sound_ like I have an English accent, that doesn’t make me English.”

“I beg to differ,” rebutted Hal.  “You’re married to an English woman.  That makes you one by proxy, at the very least.”

Jack leaned around the edge of his seat and coyly batted his eyes at the Doctor.

“Well, you sometimes have this _really_ sexy touch of a Scottish accent going when you get excited,” he said in a low and unctuous tone.  “Bet you’ve heard it, right, Rose?”

“Mmmmm,” Rose hummed seductively.  “Might have done.”

“Oh, that’s it.  That’s it, Harkness,” pouted the Doctor.  “Hal, if you want to chase Jack Harkness through the woods as a Chupacabra, or any other toothy creature, please do!  Jus’ don’t kill an’ eat him. You don’t know where he’s been.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Hal mildly.

 


	44. High Hopes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief little interlude. We'll be back to our campers very soon.

 

A tall still figure stood quietly in a garden surrounded by an array of plants and flowers from every corner of the universe.  Slender flowers on willowy stalks swayed silently in the slightest of breezes, their colours muted beneath a crescent moon overhead.  Locks of fine blonde strands stirred with the night’s unseen breath, grazing the smooth and unblemished forehead on the man’s handsome upturned face as he gazed into the heavens.  Light eyes gathered starlight, reflecting back their shine into an unblinking regard that seemed almost as eternal as that of a Sphinx.  Even the sound of footsteps approaching from behind did not move him.

The casual slow crunch of footfall seemed unnaturally loud in the garden’s quiet, and the man reacted only as it halted at his side.  A hand placed delicately on his shoulder brought him out of stillness only enough to turn his head toward the figure standing respectfully beside him.  He waited expectantly for the slightly smaller man to speak.

“Thought I’d find you out here again,” said the smaller figure in a buttery soft voice, resonant even in its tenor lightness.  Fleshy-faced with a broad forehead and receding hairline of sandy, coarse hair, the middle-aged man’s kindly eyes shone in the bright moonlight on the horizon.  Even in the dimness of the garden, one could easily discern their bright blueness.  He had evidently been extremely handsome in his youth, but even now appeared attractive, with a clear and fair complexion granted by his Scottish-Canadian forbearers.  

A faint smile tugged at the taller man’s own stunningly classic features, but it did not reach his beautifully lashed eyes.

“Am I becoming so boringly predictable, Alan?” he asked in a quietly self-deprecating tone.  The cadence of his voice was as precise as that of a metronome, but soothingly pleasant at the same time.

“Predictable perhaps, but never boring, Daryl,” answered the older man quietly.  There was a faint sadness lurking behind his crystal-blue eyes as he lightly patted Daryl’s upper back consolingly.  Taking a deep breath through his fleshy and slightly bulbous nose, he inhaled the heavy floral fragrance of the verdant garden before staring into the starscape alongside his companion.

“A pity the Toronto light pollution is partially blocking your view,” he said at last.  “You should come with us to our Arizona estate the next time we visit there.  The seeing is quite exquisite, particularly with a telescope.”

Cocking his head slightly, Daryl smiled again. 

“So I’ve been told,” he replied.  “But you know we synthetics can see the ultraviolet radiation cast by the stars, even though the light pollution, so the viewing here isn’t as poor for me.”

“Ah, yes.  I forget sometimes,” Alan said.  “We must seem almost blind and deaf compared to your superior senses.”

“I would give it all up to be able to find Hal,” the android said tonelessly.  “How superior are my senses, if they can’t help me do that?”

Alan swallowed audibly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his cardigan.

“It’s not your fault, you know.  Wherever she is, she’s beyond even Elly’s ability to reach her.  She knows only with any certainty that Hal lives.”

Daryl fixed his friend with a steady gaze, nodding very slightly.

“That is why I wait, Alan.  As long as we are certain she exists somewhere, wherever that is, I will wait.”

Turning slowly to face Daryl, Alan gingerly placed his long hands onto the android’s broad shoulders and gently squeezed.

“Daryl... Hal would not hold you to your promise under the circumstances,” he said with an earnest expression.  “The family will not hold you to it, either.  It’s been five long years since Hal has been lost to us.  You have to consider your own life.  You can’t put it on hold forever, staring into the heavens every night as if she will drop out of it one day.”

“Elly waits,” Daryl stated simply, no hint of emotion on his sharply chiselled features.

“Oh course,” sighed Alan, giving the man a sympathetic look.  “But she is her twin sister, and their bond goes far beyond anything you or I could understand.  Elly will wait until she takes her last breath.  You needn’t wait so long.  Not even Elly would ask that of you.”

“I can wait longer than either of you,” Alan said, a tiny quirk of a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.  “Even if you are to live another 87 years, I will still be here waiting.  Although, I suppose I’d look a bit better at 174 years-old.”

A chuckled escaped Alan as he gave Daryl’s shoulder another comforting squeeze.

“No need to get cocky,” he said in jest.  But suddenly he replaced the jovial mood with one more serious.

“What if she’s found someone else, wherever she is?” Alan asked, watching Daryl’s response carefully.

The tall android paused pensively, as if he was carefully weighing out the potential situation and studying his options.  He met Alan’s eyes again after a few beats.

“I’d be happy for her,” he replied at last.  

“Would you release her?  After waiting for so long, would you actually let her go?”

“Of course,” Daryl replied mildly.  “I only wish for her to be happy.  Please don’t misunderstand me, Alan.  I do love her, very much.”

“Enough to let her go?” checked Alan, his bushy eyebrows rising and causing the lines in his prominent forehead to deepen.

“Yes, I would do that,” confirmed Daryl emotionlessly.  “But until the day she asks me to release her, I wait.  It may be that most humans refuse to believe a synthetic capable of love, but I can no more prove my love for Hal to a human, than I can prove that a human experiences the emotion of love.”

Alan sighed quietly and nodded.  “No one in the family doubts your love for Hal, or your commitment, Daryl.  You’ve proved your character to us again and again, and you will always have a place with us.  You needn’t worry about that.”

“Thank you,” he said with a genuine smile.  “I am quite fond of you, Elly and the twins.  I wish only that Hal could see AJ and Natalie for herself, and that she could be a part of their young lives.  But that makes my next request all the more difficult.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes,” said Daryl, switching to a more sombre tone, his light blue eyes shining in the moonlight.  “I would like to ask your leave to go on a mission.”

“Dare, you needn’t ask my permission to go anywhere,” responded Alan, looking scandalised by the thought of Daryl feeling he had to ask.

“But I do,” the synthetic life form insisted, “because it could be years before I return.  I’ve been asked to accompany an off-world expedition to investigate a possible wormhole close to the galactic centre.  They would like to leverage my expertise in xenobiology and astrophysics.”

“Well, they’ve certainly found the right man,” Alan responded, albeit with an expression of concerned sadness.

Daryl gave him a mildly wry cock of his head.  “Originally, it was Hal that they asked for, but considering her lack of availability, they asked me to take her place.”

“A wormhole,” mused Alan.  “I suppose you believe it will lead to a discovery that may help recover Hal from another universe?  Nothing else seems to have budged you.”

“There is always… hope,” said Daryl.


	45. Taking Tiger Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It's been a rough few months with work, and then the illness and loss of my dear mother-in-law. A little vacation finally got my Muse back on the job. I hope you enjoy!

 

No one seemed to notice the silence that had fallen in the backseat.  Jack and Kaster seemed far more concerned about staying seated properly as Hal dodged ruts in the bumpy dirt road.  In spite of her failure to avoid all of them, Rose and the Doctor seemed unfazed; their eyes locked and fingers intertwined.  

Just as the reddened, bloated body of the sun crept up above the horizon, Hal slowed the Jeep to a crawl, searching the roadside for landmarks.  

“Something we should be looking for?” asked Jack helpfully.

“Mmmm,” mumbled Hal, “I’ll know it when I see it.  Bloody junipers all look alike, darn it.  But we passed through Corrizo Wash back there, so we have to be close.  At least the roads are the same as back home.”

The road came to a T-intersection, a curve to the left indicating that the road continued in that direction while the right side narrowed and ran uphill.

“Aha!  I know exactly where we are now,” Hal sighed with a relieved nod.  

“Then you’ve not exactly been here before?” Jack asked.

“Not in this universe, no.”

“Should prove interesting to see just how close it will be,” mused Jack.

Hal nodded and smiled.  “Geography seems to be a constant between the two worlds.  People and politics, not so much.  We’re lucky that it isn’t private property in Pete’s World.  The block of land owned by my family in Prime is state land here, or we’d probably not have gotten permission to dig around on it.”

“I’m surprised you got permission from the state,” Jack said, eyebrow raised.

“Helps to have the Director of Torchwood run interference for you, and his daughter to convince him to do it.”

“What’s that?” asks Rose from behind them.

“Aww, look who came up for air!” grinned Jack.

“Oi,” protested the Doctor.  “It’s not like we were snogging in the back like a couple of adolescents.”

“Uhmmm,” hummed Hal¸ unconvinced.  After a couple of dog-legs on the dirt road, she slowed to a stop.

“Is this it?” asked Jack.

“Pretty sure,” nodded Hal as she exited the SUV.  She walked along the right of the road, scanning the border until she found what she was looking for.  Digging into the soft sand, she uncovered a round metal geological pin and brushed the dirt from it.

Hal rushed back to the vehicle and climbed back in with a grin.  “We’re here,” she said excitedly.  Making a wide swerve to the left, she turned the SUV almost perpendicular to the road and slowly creeped forward onto the grassy area between the junipers.

“Eeep!” squeaked Rose as the vehicle pitched back and forth over the rough terrain.  An alarming clunk of the hitch coming from the trailer unnerved her in spite of her years of experience in field exploration.  She had never quite become comfortable with towing, although she suspected her Mum would have had no problem with it.  Jackie had, after all, driven a gigantic towing lorry to the TARDIS years ago.

“Sorry,” Hal said apologetically.  “It will get better in a moment.  This is one of the rougher parts of the land near the road.”

She navigated expertly through the trees, only occasionally brushing against a stray branch.  True to her word, the terrain smoothed out as they proceeded until they reached a small clearing of coarse grasses.  To the west they could see a horizon of juniper covered hills; to the southwest, bluish mountains dotted the horizon in the distance.

Following Hal’s cue, they exited the SUV.  Gazing out to the landscape, the Doctor didn’t watch where he was stepping until he heard a conspicuous squishy noise.

“Uhm, Doctor,” Rose murmured, “I think you just stepped in a cow pie.”  She slid out of the SUV behind him, careful to step around the fresh pile of droppings.

“Oh, now that’s just wizard,” he responded in disgust, his nose crinkled in a way that Rose found adorable — as well as amusing.  “These are brand new trainers, too!  I’m positive _that one_ parked here deliberately,” he said, pointing accusingly at Hal.  Stepping aside to scrub the soles into the sand and grass, he grumbled under his breath as Jack laughed heartily.

“Kinda hard _not_ to park near a cow plop around here,” huffed Hal, rolling her eyes.  “Did you not see all of the cows running amuck?  How many times did I have to stop and honk to get them out of the road, eh?  That’s all cows do, you know — eat and poop.”

“And block the road,” added Jack.

“And block the road,” agreed Hal.  

“Mighty tasty road blocks, too,” Jack said with a wide grin.

Shooting Jack a dirty look, Hal shook a stern finger at him.  “Don’t even think about it, Jack Harkness.  People get shot for a lot less than cattle rustling in the West.  Leave the bloody cows alone.”

“What if I shy a dirty trainer at one of them?” asked the Doctor in a decidedly surly tone.  Kaster trotted over to take a quick sniff of his excrement-smeared plimsolls before sneezing loudly.

“You, too!  No shoes, no sonic, no nothing!  Just look down from now on.  There are diamondback and Mojave green rattlesnakes around here, and they don’t care to be tread on.”

“Mmmmm, rattlesnake is mighty tasty, too,” teased Jack, his bright blue eyes glittering with glee in the bright sunlight.  The dark blue skies above seemed to enhance their blueness, rather than wash them out. 

Rose paled slightly at the thought of rattlesnake meat, although she’d never been very squeamish before.  She’d certainly eaten far stranger fare on her journeys in the TARDIS.  Whatever had gotten into her, she thought.

“You two are incorrigible,” she said with a weak shake of her head.

In the blink of an eye, the Doctor stood in front of her, concern written over his face; his precious new trainers forgotten.  “Are you ok?” he asked, touching her cheek tenderly.

“Ya, I’m fine,” she answered tentatively.  “Jus’ a little queasy at the thought of eatin’ rattlesnake, I guess.  Not sure why.  I’ve had worse, ya?”

“That you have,” he said with a smile as he surreptitiously reached into his pocket to retrieve his sonic screwdriver.  He flicked the device over Rose quickly, then turned to check the readings.

“Did you jus’ sonic me?” Rose asked with a frown.

“Don’t worry,” he said over his shoulder, “it won’t hurt the baby.”

She punched him lightly on the shoulder.  “Next time, ask!” she demanded.  “So, what’s it say?  Is somethin’ wrong?”

The Doctor turned to face her, an unreadable look crossed his features.  

“Oh, no, no, no — nothing is wrong!” he reassured her.  “It’s just that your hormone levels are a bit higher than most humans at this stage of pregnancy.  Your levels are closer to that of an eight to nine weeks pregnancy.  That’s why you’re feeling a bit of nausea, probably.”

“In other words, I’m _not_ normal.”

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly.  “Well, you’re carrying a part-Time Lord baby, Rose.  I’m not exactly sure what is normal.  Time Lord foetuses grow at an accelerated rate during the early stages, so I’m not too terribly surprised.  In any event, a high hormone level is much better than a low hormone level.  It means that the foetus is strong and growing.  If only I had my old TARDIS, I could check you over properly in the Infirmary.”

“For once, I’m glad he doesn’t,” said Hal behind them.  She was holding a metal cup of cold water that she offered to Rose.

“Oh, thank you, Hal!” Rose said graciously as she accepted the cup and took a long sip.  She sighed at the cold wetness quenching her parched throat.

“Oh my goodness, never knew water could taste so good.”

“It’s the high altitude and low humidity,” explained Hal.  We’ll all need to drink more fluids than normal.  You’re not as aware of perspiration, so you’ll dehydrate quickly.  The Doctor may deal with it better, his lot having evolved on a drier planet.”

“Hah!  You call this desert?” began the Doctor haughtily.  “This looks like Paradise compared to the deserts of Wild Endeavour back on Gallifrey.  I mean, you couldn’t even find a microbe--”

Scrubbing her face, Hal groaned softly.  “Oh, here we go.  We really don’t have time for this, ok?  We have to set up camp.”  She about-faced and walked briskly to the back of the trailer, pulling several pins holding the doors shut.

Jack gave the Doctor a cheeky wink behind Hal’s back and a sideways glance at Rose.  “Sounds like a great bedtime story, Doc.  How ‘bout you telling me all about it later?”

Stubbing the toe of his filthy trainer into the sand, a slight pout appeared on the Doctor’s face as Rose snickered.  As much as he would like to lambast Jack for his impudence, he knew it would not go over well with Rose.  And besides, anything that amused Rose also indirectly made him happy.  How could he deny her a little fun, even at his expense?

“Shut up,” he aimed weakly at the ex-Time Agent teaser, then ambled over to assist Hal with the unloading of the trailer.

Hal and Jack were efficient packers, Rose and the Doctor found.  An incredible amount of gear and provisions seemingly filled every square inch of the trailer, and even with a four-man, one dog operation — Kaster helped by dragging canvas bags with his teeth — it took them the better part of four hours to set up three tents, a screen tent, a combination toilet/shower cabana, and their contents.  Every half-hour was punctuated by the Doctor’s grumbling about not getting a meal break.

“Slave driver,” he snapped at Hal as she handed him a canteen of water and an energy bar.

Hal snorted.  “We’ll stop for a full evening meal as soon as we finish setting up, but not before then.  There are only so many daylight hours in a day, Time Lord.  Try driving stakes into the ground with a torch after dark.  No fun.”

“I thought we were done staking tents.  And why are there so many bloody stakes, anyway?  I’ve never seen that many stakes for a tent.  And where are the guy ropes?”

“No guys really necessary,” Hal said with a grin.  “See those t-bars on the ends and the tension bar at the top of the tents?  You know, the ones you couldn’t figure out what to do with?” she added pointedly.

“Interesting design,” he said with a nod, “but it’ll be down with the first gust of wind.”

Hal narrowed her eyes at the Doctor.  “How did you ever get through the Academy?  Did you sleep through Physics classes?  I’ve seen these tents hold up under 60 mile per hour wind gusts and 40 mile per hour sustained winds with only a wobble.  It’s an incredible design, and they’ll stay up even in torrential rains.  A few extra stakes make a big difference in keeping them stable.”

“If you say so,” he said with a dubious smirk.  “But don’t cry to me when your tents fall down around your and the Captain’s ears.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to join you and Rose in your tent, if by some miracle it remains standing.”

“Oh, goody!” came a disembodied voice from behind one of the massive juniper trees.

“You just _had_ to say that, didn’t you?” sighed the Doctor with a long-suffering look.

“Don’t worry,” Hal chuckled.  “My confidence in the tents are unshakable.  I think your honour is safe.”

She pointed to a large plastic water tankard a few feet away from the bright blue screen tent.

“Why don’t you fill that container with ice and about a litre of water?  After that, you should still have enough daylight to do a bit of exploring while I start our evening meal.  Make sure you take a couple of 2-way radios with you so that you’re in contact with the base campsite at all times.”

“Food, at last!” he responded in glee.  “No arguments there.”

Fifteen minutes later, Rose, the Doctor and Jack were kitted out for a brief hike around the campsite with the Doctor bouncing around like Tigger.  A canteen of water strapped onto his canvas utility belt sloshed wildly as he raced from one plant to the next, rattling off the taxonomic names of each species of flora.  Jack, wisely, carried their radio.  

“Coyote 2 to Coyote 1, we’re off,” Jack reported to Hal.

“Copy that,” Hal replied through the tinny speaker.  “Watch for snakes, out.”

“Copy,” Jack chuckled, thinking that the snakes were more in danger of being trampled to death by an excited Time Lord.

After a brief discussion on which direction to go, the trio headed off Northwest toward a steep incline near the campsite.  They could see a small hill about a hundred yards from a small prairie at the base of the drop-off.  Like a shot, the Doctor took off at a run, sliding down the rocky scree and sprinting across the grassy flat toward the hill.

“Doctor, wait!” shouted Rose, as she and Jack attempted to catch up with him.  Halfway across the prairie, he suddenly disappeared from sight.  Rose skidded to a halt.

“Where’d he go?” she asked Jack in a panic.  She’d felt a jolt of surprise from the Doctor, and then puzzlement.  

“Dunno,” frowned Jack, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if he found the only space-time rift in North America.”

Rose shook her head.  “Nope, he’s still here.  I feel him.  He’s jus’ a bit shocked, I think.”

They trotted cautiously to about where they’d seen the Doctor disappear at the foot of the hill, and could see a narrow crevice in the sandy-clay soil that ran to the left, growing wider as it progressed.  As they came to the edge, they could see a shock of brown hair about a foot below the top edge of the ravine.  A pair of bemused brown eyes gazed up at them.

“Are you ok?” asked Rose, relieved to see him in one piece.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he drawled nonchalantly.  “There’s a bleedin’ moat around this hill.”

“I think it’s called an ‘arroyo’ in this area of the country,” noted Jack.  “Luckily for you, they’re normally dry except during a flash flood.”

“I know that!”

“Then why weren’t you watching out for one of them, instead of running down a hill in unfamiliar territory like a mad fool?” prodded Jack.

“I knew it was here.  Jus’ wanted to check it out,” insisted the Doctor.

“Sure you did,” both Jack and Rose said simultaneously.

Rubbing the back of his neck, the Doctor looked up the sides for a climbing position, but the sides of the dry bed were made of compacted dirt with small rocks embedded into it.  Any attempt to scale the sides would only cause the dirt to cave in.  He looked back plaintively to Rose, reaching up to her like a small child.  

“Help me up, Rose!” he asked, batting long eyelashes appealingly.

Rose reached down, then seconds before grasping the outreached hand, she withdrew with a laugh.

“Oh, no — I know that ol’ trick,” she chortled.  “I’m not about to show up for dinner all covered in dirt an’ bring on the wrath of Hal.”

“I’m not scared of Hal.  Who’s running this expedition, anyway,” snapped the Doctor.

“It’s Hal’s project, remember?  We’re jus’ — well, we’re jus’ the subject matter experts.  You on Gallifreyan artefacts, me on field activities, although I don’t think Hal needs much help with that.”

The Doctor snorted.  “And him?” he pointed toward Harkness, who was trying to stifle a guffaw behind his hand.

Rose rolled her eyes and said nothing.  She didn’t want to mention the fact that Jack was basically tagging along as her friend, and to keep him out of trouble with Torchwood.

“So, you jus’ gonna leave me in this hole?”

By now, Jack was bent double in laughter, tears starting to stream down his face as he falls backwards onto his rear.

“Very funny, Captain,” he heard the Doctor grouse, barely out of his line of sight.  

Scrambling back to his feet and out of breath, Jack pointed to the right of the mini-canyon.  “Walk that way,” he gasped.  “It gets shallower toward that end and you’ll be able to get yourself out.”  He walked toward the shallower end of the arroyo, smiling at the grumbling coming from its bed.

The Doctor climbed out of the narrow crevice, brushing off his trousers as if he’d really meant to jump into a channel of dirt, and found he was at the base of a very rocky, steep hill.  Slowly turning a 360, he scratched his head as a sense of déjà vu came over him.

“Why does this look familiar?” he muttered, starting to feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Rose nodded, suddenly getting the same prickly feeling.  “You’re right,” she said.  “It does feel kind’a familiar.  Almost like I’d seen it in a dream or — “  

They looked at each other in comprehension.  Linking hands, they scrambled quickly up to the top of the hill and looked at the surrounding landscape, Jack trailing only a few feet behind them.

“This is where we were bonded,” Rose whispered quietly in wonder.

“Yeah, it is!” grinned the Doctor.  “Oh, wait — No, it isn’t.  Not exactly.”

“But we saw it in Hal’s head, remember?  Oh, no — not quite.  We saw this _same_ hill in the Prime universe in Hal’s memory, right?”

“Yeah, we did,” said the Doctor softly.  He was lost in memory, suddenly reliving the moment that had changed everything.  Pulling Rose into an embrace, he rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Oh, Doctor, I remember the rocks in my knees!” Rose said shakily, tears of joy pooling in her eyes.  She could feel the Doctor’s one heart pounding rapidly between them, could remember the feeling of his mind sliding into hers.  There was pain, but oh — the feeling of bliss and completion.  Their mutual bond flared, burning like a hot cauldron of molten lava as she held him.

It seemed so long ago, that evening at Hal’s.  

_It was a lifetime ago,_ the Doctor whispered through their bond.  _This is the only life that matters now.  This life with you, Rose Tyler._

A sob of gratitude choked Rose as she tightened her grasp around his slender waist.  Suddenly, the memory of their betrothal bonding seemed more ethereal, less real than what they were feeling now.  The images of their surroundings were so much brighter, so much sharper.  The resinous scent of the junipers clung to them like a natural perfume, mixing with the spicy scent of Time exuding from the Doctor.  She found it hard to believe how far they had come, how easily she could have lost him.

They could have stood there forever, but for the soft throat-clearing they heard a few yards away.  Jack was casually toeing a few rocks with his boot, looking out onto the nearby hills, valleys and prairies surrounding the hill.  Rose smiled and untangled herself from the Doctor, yet maintaining a handhold.  Tugging the Doctor along, she ambled over to Jack’s position on the edge of the hill.

“’S where we were first bonded, Jack.  Right here on this hill,” she explained.  “Well, ‘s sort’a on this hill.  ‘S kind’a hard to explain, but Hal showed us this location in her mind.”

Jack gave her a tender smile.  “I kind’a thought it was something special to you two.  But since none of us has ever actually been here, I confess, I was a little confused.  Thanks for the background.”

Frowning, the Doctor gazed around and looked toward the distant mountains to the Southwest.

“But I thought she said this was about 75 miles from our camping spot,” mused the Doctor.  “That’s why I didn’t remember the bloody arroyo we jumped the first time!  Why would I expect it to be here?”

“Ah, so the truth comes out, eh?” chuckled Rose.  “Ya _didn’t_ remember it was there!”

 “Oh, alright,” he admitted.  “But you — you, Rose Tyler, left me to get out of that hole in the ground all by myself!  I’ll remember that.”

“ _Oi_ , I’m a lot lighter than you,” she protested, slapping him on the arm.  “Besides, ya would have pulled me in with ya.”

“You won’t be lighter than me for long,” he retorted with an evil grin.

“What?!?”  Rose gave him a look that would turn most men to stone.  She took two deliberate steps toward the Doctor, causing him to retreat backwards.  

“Oh — you are so dead meat,” Jack said with a knowing smirk.

“Uhm, Rose — I meant,” started the Doctor.  But seeing that Rose wasn’t quite taking the joke in the spirit it was meant to be taken, he quickly deducted that a hasty fall-back position was his safest bet.

The Doctor’s Olympic-worthy broad jump across the arroyo, Rose in hot pursuit, would provide fodder for many years of conversations, thought Jack.  He followed at a leisurely pace, shaking his head and hoping the Doctor would survive his faux pas.  Even a Time Lord should know better than to tease a pregnant human about her weight.

 


	46. Here Comes the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid campers set out the next morning to look for artefacts, from Jack's POV. So sorry for the longest delay ever.

 

Illuminated by an unseen sun, thin, wispy clouds of pink and purple hue hovered over the Eastern horizon as a light breeze carried the scent of dust, junipers and the ever-present faint odour of livestock.  It was a cold, crisp dawn without the slightest trace of dewy moisture, similar to so many high-altitude lands like this one.

Sat in a folding chair next to a four-man canvas tent, Jack gazed quietly at a slivery moon high in the sky, a half-finished beer bottle dangling from his hand.  Out of the corner of his eye he could make out the motionless figure of his tent-mate in the shadow of a large juniper tree, her eyes fixed on the fading moon.  Her normally deep golden-tan colouring was muted to a gunmetal grey in the dimness, but her eyes flared a vivid blue from the moon’s reflected light.  Occasionally, a gentle breeze would stir the fur sweeping out from her long, sloping neck, but otherwise she was still as stone.  Next to her lay a rounded lump of black fur, sound asleep.

Of course, Jack hadn’t been terribly surprised that she had refused to spend the night in the tent with him, although he had to admit to himself a feeling of great disappointment.  He had slept, alone, all of an hour and a half after midnight.  Even an hour and a half was a decadent luxury, given his Artron-fueled stamina.  The fresh air and super-quiet night, punctuated periodically by the lonely hooting of Great Horned owls around the campsite, lulled him into the most peaceful slumber he had experienced since arriving in Pete’s World.  Actually, it had probably been the most peaceful he had slept in decades.

As the first orange clouds presaged the approach of dawn, Jack blinked as he cast his gaze over to the juniper again, a habit he had fallen into throughout the night with nothing else to do.  The wolf figure had silently disappeared.  A twitch of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  He had confidence in his keen peripheral vision, but it had failed him this time.  The always surprising shapeshifter had managed to slip away without his notice.  Kaster, her constant canine companion, remained unaware of her absence.

Jack slammed down the last few swallows of beer before tossing it around the corner of the tent.  It clinked softly as it rolled against a dozen more bottles in the nearby grass.  He was sure he’d catch hell from the women at daylight, but grinned at the thought.  Even negative attention was better than being ignored.  

Just as he considered standing up to stretch his cramped legs, a shadow appeared from behind the tall juniper.  This time, Hal was back into her usual boyish humanoid form, dressed in a dark tracksuit with white piping.  Her short blond hair caught the reddish rays from the approaching sun, giving it an almost auburn glow.  She would look equally beautiful as a ginger, he mused.  Not that she gave a tinker’s damn that he found her attractive, he thought with a wince.

Crossing into a small clearing amongst the trees with not so much as a glance at the frustrated Captain, Hal stopped to face the first fiery kiss of the sun on the horizon.  Her body visibly relaxed as she took a wide stance and a cleansing breath.  In one fluid motion, she gracefully raised both hands and lowered them back to her sides in what seemed like a slow dance move.  Without pause, she pivoted to her right, extending out her right hand with fingers pointed upward.  She leaned forward, as if pressing her outstretched hand onto an unseen wall or tree.

“ _Tai Chi!”_ whispered Jack to himself, a look of wonder spreading over his chiselled good looks.  He hadn’t expected that.  Hal was proving to be as much of a mystery to him as the Doctor.  Perhaps more, since he’d only recently met the willowy shapeshifter.  His mind wrestled with the dichotomy of a meditative _Tai Chi_ practitioner and a pistol-packing bad-ass femme fatale rolled into this one petite form greeting the sun.

He watched silently, then resolved to make a move.  He approached almost soundlessly on the fine sand as Hal neared the end of the first set, moving into the final _brush knee_.  Lining up next to her about three arms-length away (he wasn’t, after all, quite so stupid as to get within easy reach), Jack joined her in the first move of the second set.  Making no eye-contact at all to acknowledge his presence, Hal continued without a single stutter in motion.  It was as if he didn’t exist, he thought dryly.

Fair enough.  Jack resigned himself to matching her movements in this glacially slow line-dance to nowhere.  The second _Carry Tiger to Mountain_ reminded his lower back muscles, however, that it had been quite a while since he’d practiced any martial arts.  Thankfully, the surprisingly intense heat of an Arizona sunrise provided some relief, cascading over a trunk and limbs stiffened by a long night of cold and immobility.

The sun shifted from yellow to tinges of blue before finally clearing the horizon on its journey to the zenith.  They finished the last movement, then Hal moved wordlessly to the shelter tent without so much as a glance.  Like a black streak, an awakened Kasterborous bolted past to slow to a trot at her left side. 

There was simply no way that she wouldn’t have noticed him, but a prickle down Jack’s neck made him certain she had known he was there.  The relaxed cadence of her steps seemed to indicate that she wasn’t exactly angry at his intrusion.  She just didn’t seem to be bothered, which was more damning, in a way.

With a sigh, Jack cast a glance at the larger tent about fifty paces away, wishing Rose and the Doctor would break the unbearable quiet.  In this remote area with nothing but sand, hills and brush-like trees for as far as the eye could see, he felt terribly alone even amongst his closest friends.  But the lonesome night he had spent guzzling beer for hours on end, listening to the intermittent muffled sounds of ecstasy wafting from the distant tent deep into the night, told him that the silence would probably last longer than he hoped.

The clang of metal pans in the shelter tent alerted him to the fact that he was desperately hungry.  Squaring his shoulders, he strode purposely toward the tent.  Yeah, he might get his face taken off, but it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before.  The day was young.

“Good morning.  Anything I can do to help?” he asked pleasantly, sticking only his head through the door of the tent.

Hal looked up, a large 18 litre blue plastic container with spout in her hand.  She had set up the propane gas stove onto a large folding table at the right side of the 12’x12’ tent.  Two empty pots and a griddle sat on the stove, so she was obviously preparing breakfast for everyone.  The light filtering through the blue nylon tent walls enhanced the intense sapphire of her eyes, causing Jack to give out a barely perceptible gasp.  It did not go unnoticed.

“Here,” Hal said rather brusquely, thrusting the container through the door and into Jack’s chest.  Her expression was neutral and unreadable, but her sudden movement startled him and made an unmistakable statement.

“I need water for tea, coffee and preparing breakfast,” she explained as Jack froze, uncertain.  “Chop, chop, Captain,” she ordered.  “The large water tank in the back of the trailer.  We’ll find a well nearby to fill up, if here is anything like the area in Prime.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jack said meekly, backing away from the tent.  He whistled to himself as he strolled to the camper-like trailer.  At least she wasn’t being particularly hostile without the Doctor there to keep her in line.  Jack had never been quite sure how she would react to being alone with him.  Watching her recline in her wolf form, in the spooky darkness under a tree, had been disquieting, to say the least.  His first encounter with Hal in wolf form had not been… pleasant.

He stepped into the tent with the now super-heavy filled container, where Hal tapped the far end of the folding table to indicate he was to set it there.  His task completed, she shooed him over to an identical folding table surrounded by chairs at the other side of the tent.  He watched as she filled a steel percolator coffee pot with water and coffee grounds, then lit the smallest burner of the stove for it.  Minutes later, the delicious aroma of coffee filled the tent and set Jack’s salivary glands on hyper-drive.

_“Helllooo!”_ came a cheery voice from the doorway.  A beaming Doctor stepped through the flaps and stood erect in the tent.

“Blimey.  These are _really_ tall tents, aren’t they?” he asked, looking up at the 8’ ceiling.  Behind him, Rose stepped into the tent, a bit less cheerful and a bit more rumpled.  She was suffering from a serious bed-head.  Unlike the Doctor, she didn’t strive for the look and still wasn’t much of a morning person.

“What time is it?” Rose mumbled in a sleepy voice.

“6:15 am Mountain Standard Time,” chirped the Doctor with a chipper lilt.  “See, still got it, Rose!  Who needs a watch when you have a Time Lord?”

“Time for some coffee, or a lot of tea,” grinned Hal, pouring Rose a steaming mug of coffee.

“Oi, over here!” whinged Jack, who had been waiting for what seemed like ages.  He had been kidding — a bit — but he was floored when Hal calmly poured another mug and set it in front of him.

“Uh, thank you,” muttered Jack, still nonplussed.  This tacit acknowledgement of his lowly existence was almost enough to make him whoop in victory, but he kept it down to a gracious smile of gratitude.

“Hang on,” remarked Rose as she stirred sugar into her coffee.  “That means I got all of three hours of sleep las’ night.”

“We noticed,” muttered Hal dryly.

Rose shook her head.  “No, seriously.  He kept goin’ on ‘bout Raxicoricofallipatorious, or somethin’.  I finally feel asleep while he was talkin’.”

“No, I was talking about Clom,” countered the Doctor.

“Yea, I know.  The sister planet of Raxicoricofallipatorious, I know that.  It was boring!”

“Clom is boring,” said the Doctor.  “Nobody wants to go to Clom.”

“What’s for breakfast?” Jack interjected, preparing to dive under the table if his question turned out to be ill-conceived.  

Hal spun around to face Jack with a frown.  “Seriously?” she challenged him.

Patting his stomach with both hands, Jack gave her a pleading look.  “Artron energy.  I burn through food in about an hour.  This man cannot live by beer alone.”

“Scones,” answered Hal plainly, waving a spatula in his direction.  Jack wasn’t sure if that was as an explanation or a threat.  His stomach complained loudly as if to say that it didn’t matter, leading them all to laugh.

“We have butter?” asked Rose with a puzzled look.

“Of course,” answered Hal.

“Wow, that… that is _incredible_ for a campin’ trip,” said Rose.

Hal smiled as she patted the scone batter into a skillet.  “All is possible with the proper preparations.  I’m sure Captain Jack never noticed that brick of butter at the bottom of the cool box.”

“Oh, so that’s what that was.  I thought it was C4,” quipped Jack.

“Right.  C4 topped with bottles of beer,” Hal said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.  “You’d be in a plastic bag reconstructing right now.”

“Been there.  Done that,” said Jack a little more seriously.  On the other hand, perhaps he shouldn’t have said that, he thought wryly.  As if Hal needed more ideas on how to dispatch him.

“Lovely breakfast conversation,” said Rose.  “I _was_ a bit peckish until now.”

Hal reached into a lidded plastic trunk and produced a flat box.  Shaking it above her head, she grinned at Rose.  “Bacon!” she teased.

“Bacon?  In a box??” said an astonished Doctor.

“Not exactly what we’re used to,” noted Hal.  “But it’s shelf-stable and packs some protein.”

“Ah, Hal… how kind of you to think of use menfolk,” grinned the Doctor.

“Not you,” she snorted.  “I was thinking of Rose.  She needs proper nutrition.”

“Ha!” laughed the Doctor.  “There you go.  We’re the pack mules.  We’re lucky to get scones, so no complaining or she’ll have us eating the grass out there.”

“What grass?” scoffed Jack.  “More sand than grass out here.  Guess I could round up a jackrabbit or two.  They’re big enough to put a saddle on.”

“Eyeew.”  Hal made a face at the mention of jackrabbits.  

“You don’t like rabbit?” asked Jack.

“Big diff between a rabbit and a jackrabbit,” muttered Hal.  “Jackrabbits are tough, stringy and riddled with parasites.  I’d eat the cacti first, needles and all.”

“Okaaay,” Rose drawled.  “Now I’m definitely gonna sick up.”

“Sorry,” Hal said contritely.  She brought out a small package of saltines to hand over to Rose.  “Nibble on those very slowly,” she instructed her.

A look of concern crossed the Doctor’s face as he leaned forward to look into Rose’s eyes.

“Are you sure you’re well enough to go investigating?” he asked gently.

“Yea, I’m fine,” she reassured the Doctor quickly.  “Jus’ a little queasy, is all.  Where are we goin’ anyway, Hal?”

Having tossed a few of the floppy strips of bacon onto the grill, Hal paused for a moment before turning to give Rose an appraising look.

“I’m thinking that we need to stick to within a mile of the campsite for today,” she said slowly and deliberately.

“But I’m fine, really!” protested Rose.

“We’re all still adjusting to the higher altitude, Rose.  We have two weeks.  Plenty of time to explore once we’ve acclimated.”

“So, how far again was that artefact found?” asked the Doctor, keen to support Hal’s efforts to make Rose stay put for a day.

“About an hour and a half away,” Hal answered, turning back to the stove.  “But if you look at the size of that fragment, I would guess that the TARDIS may be in millions of pieces.  Not all of them may have landed in that area.  It’s perfectly conceivable that the shrapnel scattered over a very wide field, depending on where it was when it exploded.”

The Doctor scrubbed the back of his head, eyes narrow in thought.  “Could have scattered hundreds of kilometres if it exploded in the air.  No telling where the fragments may be, if it exploded _in_ the Vortex and the pieces were hurled out into normal Space.  That fragment may be the only part that arrived here.”

“Ugh,” uttered Rose with a face.  “I don’ wanna think about that last bit.  Let’s keep positive, yea?  I don’t wanna believe we came all this way for nothin’.”

“She’s right,” added Jack.  “What if the parts were strewn over a wide area, perhaps hundreds of _miles_ ,” he added with emphasis on the last word, nodding to the Doctor.

“Oh, let’s not get pernickety about measurements and nomenclature,” grumbled the Doctor.  “I personally measure everything in parsecs in my head.” 

“And that’s why I don’t need a big Time Lord brain to do all those calculations,” needled Jack.  “I can use my mobile for that,” he grinned, waggling his phone at the Doctor.

“So, have you done any scanning of the surrounding area, Doctor?” asked Hal.

“Nope,” he said with a pop.

“Too busy scannin’ me,” Rose said with an irritated glance at her soon-to-be husband.  The Doctor, in answer, simply flashed his eyebrows, prompting Jack to laugh.

Kaster, who had been in a corner of the tent quietly listening to the conversation, appeared next to the table and placed both paws on the edge.  Long strings of drool were dangling from both corners of his mouth.  Quickly ripping off a paper napkin from a nearby roll, Hal wiped his muzzle clean before handing him a strip of bacon directly from the package.  The tender smile across her features made her seem so much younger, thought Jack, whose heart suddenly felt as if it had swelled in his chest. 

The tightness in Jack’s chest was uncharacteristically at war with the faint burn of jealousy in his gut.

Oh, that’s new, he thought.  In over two thousand years of immortal life, he had never, ever, thought of himself as the jealous type.  Yet, here he was, envying the private telepathic exchange between this woman and her dog.  What he wouldn’t give to have her turn that brilliant smile his way, but even the stars were more accessible than the mysterious shapeshifter only a few paces away.  Well, they would be if he could just get off this rock, he thought ruefully.

They made short work of breakfast.  As usual, the food was devoured in a quarter of the time it took for Hal to make it, and then they sat at the table to discuss the activities for the day.  Astonishingly, Hal sent the Doctor, Rose and Kaster off on foot to scan for alien tech over a half-mile radius around the camp.

“You’ve sent Kaster off with them?” Jack asked Hal, a puzzled look on his face.

“Yes,” answered Hal.  “He’ll alert me immediately if anything untoward happens.  The Doctor and Rose are more touch telepaths, but Kaster can communicate with me over long distances with ease.  He’ll also protect them from any wildlife they may encounter.”

“And my job is…?”

“You’re coming with me,” Hal responded flatly.  “Bring the vortex manipulator.”

Jack could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest.  He had expected to be sent out into the wilderness on his own, having watched with a sinking feeling as his friends and Kaster trekked away from the camp.  He wasn’t sure if he was more excited, or scared witless, at the prospect of being totally isolated with the unpredictable and deadly Hal.  There’d be no witnesses, that’s for sure.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he nodded.  So far, Hal had been good as her word not to harm him after meting out her punishing and brutal retribution.  He had not felt the brush of her mind to his since then, although he had to begrudgingly admit that he missed it.  It did make sense, however, that he come with her.  Jack had the only other device capable of scanning for alien artefacts, so no doubt Hal was simply being logical about things.  She wouldn’t have asked him to accompany her simply for company, he was sure.

“Ok, so where are we going?” he ventured.  

“Aerial surveillance,” Hal said, putting away the last of the cooking utensils into a trunk.  “I need to know how this area is laid out, and do a preliminary scan from the air.”

“Uhm… we have a plane?” Jack proffered tentatively.

Hal whirled around to face Jack, shooting him a look that clearly stated she thought him fairly thick.

“Who needs a plane when you have wings, Jack?”

Jack gulped audibly, a thousand questions swirling through his head at once, and not a single one of them prudent.

“I’ll… I’ll get dressed properly,” he stammered.  He bolted back to the tent, mind racing at the thought that…oh, my God… Hal was going to fly them around the area with him on her back.  He had better mind his tongue.  One stupid flippant comment or joke and… Well, the consequences would be memorable.  He chuckled to himself as he donned several layers and a thick leather bomber jacket.  He looked quite dashing, he thought, preening in a handheld mirror.  He’d also make a handsome corpse, too, emerged another unbidden thought.  Jack emerged from the tent and was zipping the flaps when he felt the touch of Hal’s mind.

_Come to the hill behind the tent,_ she directed him.

Clapping tight control over his emotions, lest Hal sense his kaleidoscopic feelings, Jack stepped around the tent and headed down the slope toward the hill.  He looked up from his position at the trough.  Standing on the hill was a very familiar shape:  A golden iridescent dragon sat on the southern edge of the hill, its sapphire multifaceted blue eyes glinting in the sun.  It seemed larger than its previous estimated height of twelve feet, although it may have been because its wings were unfurled.  Regardless, it was an imposing image as he scrambled up the hill.

The dragon nodded approvingly as he approached.  He could see a two inch-wide leather belt draped around the base of its neck.

“ _Ooo_ , is that the _Save Me Jesus_ strap?” he quipped, unable to help himself.

_Nothing will save you if you start with the jokes,_ Hal warned him gravely.

“Sorry,” grinned Jack.  “I’ll try to be good.”

Was it truly possible to snort telepathically, Jack wondered, or did he actually hear the dragon do it?  Keeping his gob shut and his mind under control proved harder than he expected.

_Legs in front of the wings.  Keep them out of the way.  Feet in front of my shoulders and keep one hand on the strap at all times,_ she said, crouching down on all fours.

Even at his fairly tall stature of six feet, Jack had to hop and hoist himself by the leather strap to mount as Hal twisted her neck to regard him.  He clinched his knees tightly just behind the shoulders as he had been instructed, and placed the heels of his boots against the dragon’s small upper arms.  Grasping the strap, he nodded to Hal that he was ready.  

Hal rose on all fours and turned to face the northeast, wings outstretched their full length.  Like a shot, she took off at a gallop down the long end of the hill and toward the edge.  Jack held on for dear life as he felt her muscles gather up for a prodigious leap into the air.  Unable to prevent a gasp from emerging, Jack tightly shut his eyes as Hal launched herself full-speed off the hill, her wings beating sharp and powerful down strokes as they dropped toward the plains below.  

Just as it seemed they would skim the ground, Hal tilted her wings and began to climb. Up towards the blazing sun they went, gaining altitude with each mighty stroke until the ground fell beneath them.  Jack looked back to see all three tents, the truck and trailer set on a plateau to their right rear.  To their left, he could see the lone dirt road leading to the highway, and a few other smaller secondary roads joining it.  Within a minute, he could see the meandering blackness of the highway stretching somewhat north and south, a few buildings spotted here and there beside it.  

_Hang on,_ warned Hal suddenly. She partially folded her right wing, banking sharply to the right in a move that left Jack’s stomach far behind.  With the sun to their left, she unfurled her wing and resumed their climb.  The wind whipped at Jack’s face, causing his eyes to water a bit as he watched the horizon spread out before him.  Finally unable to contain himself any longer, he let out a loud whoop of sheer exuberance. 

Oh, this was just _brilliant!_

 


	47. The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose find a bit more than they bargained for in their search. And I'm sorry... I'm so sorry for the cliffie. You'll be rewarded with the next chapter by the end of this weekend. Promise!

 

A lonesome cow trail meandered haphazardly through the bare, rocky hills, leading Rose, the Doctor and Kaster along a vaguely northern direction.  The panting of Kaster at their side, black fur taking the brunt of the solar heat, reminded Rose and the Doctor to stop periodically.  Slinging a belted water canteen from his shoulder, the Doctor slipped a metal collapsible cup from his pocket and filled it.

“Here you go, mate,” the Doctor said, crouching to hold the water-filled cup for the thirsty pup.  He handed the canteen to Rose, who took a draught directly from the insulated metal container. 

“Wow, that is _really_ cold,” moaned Rose in appreciation.  “However does Hal manage to think of these things?  I’ve done a lot of campin’ since working with Torchwood, but I’d never have thought to bring insulated canteens, or to melt blocks of ice in a container for drinkin’ water.”

“Experience, I suppose,” answered the Doctor, reaching for his sonic screwdriver tucked into a vest pocket.  He waved the sonic in an arc ahead of them, the whir of the device almost lost in the open air.  Frowning, he read the display on the side.

“Same reading,” he muttered.  “There’s something here, but I can’t get a fix on it.”

“Maybe it’s covered under tonnes of rock.  Plenty of that around, from what I can see,” nodded Rose toward the nearest mound.  No more than twenty feet high, the occasional stray juniper tree sprouted along the rounded hill’s top.  Every imaginable type of rock, in every hue of the rainbow, scattered down its sides like confetti.  A wavy mirage shifted in front of it, a radiating effect of the blazing sun heating the ground below.

“Yea, but _which_ pile of rock?” said the Doctor, grimacing.  “I just don’t understand it.  I should at least be able to figure out which direction the signals are coming from.  Unless…”

Rose squinted in the bright sunlight, rotating in place to scan the area around them.

“Unless it got blasted to smithereens and is spread out all around us,” she added hopelessly.

_I’m sooo hot,_ whinged Kaster, who threw himself flat on his side against the sparse grass.  _I don’t wanna do this anymore._

_Oh, you poor baby,_ Rose projected telepathically.  _We’ll get you out of the sun.  Just a tiny bit more, ok?  How about that nearby hill, eh?_

“Baby?” the Doctor ground out, one eyebrow raised in scorn.  “He can almost reach your shoulders when he stands up now!”

Rose gave Kaster a tongue-tipped proud smile.  _Who’s a growing boy, yea?  You’ve put on at least a two stone in the last coupl’a weeks, haven’t ya?_

_And I’m hungry, too,_ the Rottweiler pup moaned, looking up at Rose out of the corner of his eye.

_So am I, Kaster,_ admonished the Doctor, rolling his impossibly chocolate-brown eyes in mock derision.  _Don’t see me throwing myself down in the dirt complaining._

“You’ll be face down in the dirt if he complains to Hal that we’ve been mistreatin’ him,” whispered Rose with a grin.  

They stepped off the cow trail and crossed the plains, taking the shortest distance to the nearest hill, and careful picking their way around the scattered brambles and cholla bush along the way.  Scrambling up the scrabble, they selected the largest, shadiest juniper tree on one end.  As they sat down, a nearby pile of sand and gravel erupted into a hive of activity.

“Ants!” yelped Rose, leaping to her feet.

“They’re just ants, Rose, not a hive of Genuvian terra-pirahna,” said the Doctor.  “Just throw ‘em a bit of your sandwich and… _OWW!!!”_ __

He leapt into the air, clearing almost three feet in one jump, brushing wildly at his clothing in a spastic Saint Vitus dance worthy of any contortionist.  Struggling to strip his clothing, hopefully - he thought - along with his tormentors, he tripped with trousers around his knees and skittered halfway down the hill over the loose scree.  A periodic red and white flash beaconed in the bright sunlight as he tumbled, the result of white briefs printed with bold crimson question marks.

_BAHAHAHAHAAA!_ heard Rose, as Kaster gave out a doggy guffaw.  _Doctor has ants in his pants!  Wait ‘till I tell Hal!_ Kaster’s open-mouth doggy grin, tongue lolling impossibly long from the corner of his mouth, would have been quite comical if Rose had had the time to look at it.

Sprinting down the hill, Rose chased her bond-mate as he finally skidded to a halt, trying hard not to burst into a fit of giggling herself.  The ripping pain seeping across their mental link concerned her, though.  

“Oww, oww, oww, it _BURNS!”_ yipped the Doctor, his face contorted in searing pain.  Rose immediately yanked his boots off to help him remove his jeans, cursing under her breath that he hadn’t donned his usual trainers.  Hal had been more concerned about rattlesnakes, but leave it to the Doctor to find stinging ants instead.

“I think they’re fire ants, Doctor,” Rose said as she thumped one of the reddish-brown critters from his shoulder.  “Hal could probably tell us definitively, given her knowledge of the area.”

“I don’t need Hal to tell me that,” he hissed.  “It feels like someone stuck a match to me.  Owww!”

Next to them, Kaster sniffed gingerly at one of the crushed ants that writhed feebly in circles across the sand.

_It stinks,_ groused Kaster, muzzle crinkled in disgust.

_Stay away from them,_ warned Rose as she reached into her waist pack.  _You saw what they did to the Doctor._

Staring at her in wonder as Rose dabbed at the dozen or so inflamed red marks with a medicated pen, the Doctor felt a surge of pride cut through the pain.

“You’re getting quite good at that,” he remarked softly.

“What?  Tendin’ your wounds?” she said with a chuckle.  “Don’t make a habit of it, yea?”

“No, I meant the telepathic communication with Kaster.  You’re switching back and forth with ease, which is good.  Sort of like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time, you know.”

_Hal wants to know what happened,_ Kaster broke in.  He had turned his head towards the South and cocked his ears, as if listening to a distant sound on the wind.

“Do _not_ tell her,” uttered the Doctor sternly.

Kaster dropped his blocky head in abashment.  _Sorry, already did,_ he admitted contritely.  _She said she felt something from you._   

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor wondered just how much Hal was aware of his innermost thoughts.  Was she always eavesdropping, or did she allow him _some_ privacy?  As strong as their sibling bond was, he could never be sure that she wasn’t traipsing through his mind.  Her wraithlike natural ability to infiltrate a consciousness was frightening, yet could prove very handy.  Just not with him, he thought sourly.

“Where is she and Jack, anyway,” the Doctor asked Kaster, shaking out his jeans one last time.

Kaster paused, head cocked, before replying.  _She says they’re about twenty miles from here.  They’ve found another piece of the… the…TAR…?_

“TARDIS, yes.  So there are more pieces to be found.”

_They’re really teeny-tiny, though._ Kaster poked at a pebble in front of his massive paws.  It was smaller than his toenail.

“Better than what we’ve found,” muttered the Doctor.  “We’ve got a big fat nothin’.”

“But that’s fantastic, Doctor,” said Rose hopefully.  “We’ve only been lookin’ about three hours.  That there’s other pieces at all is fabulous news.”

“Guess so,” he said with a shrug.  He was starting to feel like he was on a fool’s errand, swanning around the middle of Nowhere, getting eaten alive by the local wildlife.  He could be back home fixing up the nursery in their new home, making love to his gorgeous wife in a big four-poster bed, and breaking ground for the spring garden.  No, wait.  He hated gardening.

“Think we can eat our tea without another incident?” asked Rose with a smile, noticing the vacant expression settling over her bond-mate’s handsome features.  His mind was obviously a thousand miles away.  “Let’s eat and then cover another coupl’a miles before we head back,” she suggested.

“Fine,” sighed the Doctor.  “I’m getting sunburned.  Me!  A sunburn! Never got a sunburn before in all my lives, even on the hottest desert planets in the universe.  This place has it in for me.”

“Come on,” Rose grinned, holding out her hand as he finished zipping his jeans.  They headed back up the hill, finding another shady tree, sans anthill this time.  They ate their sandwiches and crisps mostly in silence, listening to the breeze and birdsong.  Only occasionally would they see a bird flitting from one tree to another.

“’S so peaceful here, breathed Rose.  

“It’s _boring_ ,” moaned the Doctor with a grimace.

Rose gave him her signature grin, tongue peeking out flirtatiously.  “Betcha didn’t think so when ya had ants in your pants.  By the way, love the question marks.”

“Used to wear question marks all the time,” he grinned back sheepishly, a slight blush rising up his neck to join his sun-pinkened cheeks.  “Sort of an inside joke, since everyone kept asking ‘Doctor Who’ everywhere I went.”  

“So you stopped wearin’ ‘em after your seventh life?  Don’t recall seeing them after that one, at least in the images I saw in your head.”

“Kinda forgot about them after the Time War,” he nodded.  “Until a certain someone looked askance at my goin’ commando,” he added pointedly.

“Oi, ‘s kinda gross,” laughed Rose.

“But so much more… accessible,” he cooed with an eyebrow waggle.

_Something’s coming,_ whispered Kaster, leaping to his feet.  The fur along his back stood on edge, appearing as an even blacker ridge down his spine.  Rose and the Doctor stood up in mild alarm, scanning the surrounding area and listening.

_It’s_ _jus’ the wind,_ reassured Rose after a moment.

_No, it’s not the wind.  Listen!_

Rose and the Doctor stood stock still, straining to hear whatever the keen senses of their canine companion was detecting.  Even the ever present sound of birds was gone.

“Nothing,” mumbled the Doctor.  “My hearing is pretty good, but I don’t hear anything.”

And then it came.  An ancient and unforgettable wheeze drifted around them, surrounding them and causing them both to gasp.  It was followed by a thump as an all-to-familiar image materialized at the top of a nearby hill about a hundred yards away.

“ _Oh my God_ ,” gasped Rose.  She took one step forward then froze as the Doctor grabbed her arm in an iron grip.

“ _No!_ It can’t be,” he choked out, eyes rounded.  “He can’t be here.  How can he be here???  _Why_ is he here?”

“We need to find out,” said Rose, stepping forward once again toward the blue Police Box.  It was once her home, and nothing about this was the least bit frightening.  The Doctor, however, was beginning to hyperventilate in anxiety.

“No!!” he shouted in anguish.  Grabbing Rose and practically dragging her out of view of the TARDIS behind the tree, he struggled to get his emotions under control.  Rose was almost overwhelmed by the waves of anxiety radiating through their bond.

“You’re scared,” she remarked, staring in confusion at the Doctor.  “Like, really, _really_ scared.”

Still panting, the Doctor threw up his mental barriers, trying desperately to shield his presence from the Time Lord within that blue box.  It had been his home for hundreds of years, and he could never have imagined being afraid of it before.  But now, he was positively terrified.  

A low growl vibrated from Kaster chest as he bared his teeth, sensing danger from the Doctor.

“What is wrong with you two?” snapped Rose.  “It’s the Doctor.  He can take us back to the other universe.”

“No, no, no,” he moaned.  “He’s not here to take us back, that much I can assure you!”

It had not been lost on him that Rose so easily referred to the Other as “The Doctor,” as if he wasn’t crouching there right next to her.  In one fell swoop at the appearance of the TARDIS, his TARD… no _HIS_ TARDIS, the new Doctor’s hard-earned confidence shattered.  

“What’s he here for?” panted the Doctor.  “Why’s he here?  He’s not supposed to be here; it’s supposed to be impossible to cross the Void again.  He sealed it himself, the bloody fool!  What is so important that he take that risk now?”

Losing his battle to calm himself, the Doctor’s words accelerated into a rapid-fire diatribe.

“What if he’s here for you, Rose?  What if he’s tired of traveling alone and decided to come back to take you from me?  He’s probably mad with grief and… and… and decided he’ll break all the rules to get you back!  He can’t have you, Rose!  You’re my wife, this is our world now.  HE CAN’T HAVE YOU!!”

“Doctor,” Rose said gently, taking him by the shoulders.  “Calm down.  That’s the silliest thing I’ve heard you say in a while.”

“Don’t leave me, Rose,” he whispered plaintively.

Rose shook her head, finally understanding why her Doctor had gone into a panic at the sight of the TARDIS.

“We’re bonded, you numpty,” she said lovingly.  “How could you think I would leave you?  We’re married in every way but civilly, and there’s no way I’m goin’ back to be with him.”

“You called him the Doctor,” he pouted slightly.  

“What was I supposed to call him?” she asked, eyebrow raised.  “He’s still the Doctor, although, I guess that would be confusing, now that I think about it.”

“I have more than a few names I’d like to call him,” he said bitterly.

“Then, let’s go see him an’ you can tell him how you really feel.  He’s your brother, remember?  An’ then, you can tell him about the baby,” Rose said with a crooked smile.  “Whattdya think he’ll make of that?”

“Let’s not,” pleaded the Doctor.  “Let’s get out of here before he comes out of the TARDIS.  There’s no way he won’t know I’m here.  He’ll feel it as soon as he steps out.  He’ll notice a Time Lord consciousness at this range.”

“How do you know he won’t feel you at a distance?”

“I don’t.  I don’t want to risk it, right now.  We should really leave,” he insisted.

A creaking sound caught their attention.  They peeked around the base of the tree.  The right door of the big blue box was opening.  
  


 


	48. Come Talk to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to see who steps out of that TARDIS. A surprise guest character appears for a few chapters. This chapter is slightly longer than normal, as an apology for the evil cliffie in the last chapter. I hope you enjoy!

 

The slow creak of the TARDIS door drifted across the short distance to the trio on the hill.  Rose could hear the pounding of her pulse in her ears.  Both she and the Doctor at her side were holding their breaths, unsure of what would emerge through those ancient doors.  The Doctor clamped down so tightly on his mental shielding that his brain ached.

Thirty seconds passed, and they both gasped quietly for breath as they waited.  The suspense was killing Rose.  She was sure her arms would give out soon from leaning her torso around the base of the tree.

_Hal wants to know what is going on_ , Kaster asked telepathically.

_Shhhh_ _!_ projected the Doctor, afraid that the Time Lord in the TARDIS might somehow hear.

It was a full five minutes before a lone figure emerged.  Tall, thin, dressed in a crisply starched white shirt and a solid black suit, the man turned his back to peruse his surroundings.  A shock of thick medium-length wavy salt-and-pepper hair topped his head.

“Oh my God,” whispered Rose.  “He’s regenerated again.  Tony was right!  But two lives in such a short time?”

“Short for us,” he whispered back.  “But not necessarily for him.  But how?  He shouldn’t have had more than one regeneration left.  It shouldn’t be possible.  Besides, I only detected one regeneration.”

Rose smiled.  “Impossible things jus’ happen, an’ we call ‘em miracles, you told me once.”

“No, not this.  This should truly be impossible without the… Time Lords.”  He stuttered to a stop, and stared at the figure as it turned toward them.  They ducked back further under the tree, lying flat to gaze at the sight from under the lowest boughs.  

They both gave a tiny gasp as the angular features of the man came into full view.  Thick, impressive eyebrows jutted out over intense steely-blue eyes.  A prominent nose and thin lips, together with the intimidating eyebrows, gave Rose the impression of a bird of prey.  

“Doesn’t look like he smiles much,” remarked Rose under her breath.  “And he’s old.  Like, _really_ old.  He looks like… sixty, or something.”

“Oi, I’m gonna look like that one day.  All grey and wrinkly like him.  You gonna call me old?”

“Shut up,” grinned Rose.  “He’s old, but he’s kinda handsome, in a weird Time Lordy sort of way.”

The slow burn of jealously reached through the bond to Rose, in spite of the tight hold he had over his mental barriers.  Rose reached over to clasp his clinched fist.

“Stop it,” she whispered.  “He’s not _that_ handsome, an’ not my type.”

“He’s is _so_ your type,” the Doctor countered.  “Forgetting, the last me was a bit older, too?  You still fancied me.”

A flash of scarlet caught their eye as the new Doctor reached into his coat, the bright red silk lining making a bold statement against the stark blackness of the rest of his suit.  Retrieving a sonic screwdriver from his inner pocket, he began scanning in a wide arc.  They could detect a bright blue light blinking from the top and sides of the sonic, a slight whine carrying over the wind as he slowly rotated towards them.

“Blimey.  He’s got a new sonic, and it is _really_ cool,” groaned the Doctor.  “And I think he just found us.”

The new Doctor turned toward his TARDIS and depressed a button on the sonic screwdriver.  The TARDIS disappeared in a wavy shimmer.

“Oh, no,” said the Doctor.  “He hid the TARDIS, so he’s not going back in.  I _knew_ we should have left!”

Turning, the new Doctor strode purposely down the hill… directly towards them.

“Shite!” muttered the Doctor under his breath.

“Oi, language,” Rose admonished him.  

“ _Hulloooo_ _!_ ” came a deep, gravelly voice across the plain.  “No need to be afraid.  I won’t hurt you,” said the black-suited Doctor.  His long legs had taken him halfway across the clearance already.  He was wearing a pair of black Doc Martin boots, Rose noted approvingly.  Obviously, this Doctor had one upped his sense of style.  The coat was a rich black velvet that shimmered slightly in the strong sun.

With concealment no longer possible, they stood to their feet and slowly walked out from behind the tree, coming into view as the new Doctor reached the foot of the hill.

They heard a sharp intake of air as the grey-haired Doctor gasped.  His eyes grew wide in recognition, his spectacular eyebrows almost crawling into his hairline as he stared at them agape.

Rose barely trusted her voice, but she squared up her shoulders, meeting the new Doctor’s eyes unflinchingly.

“Hello, Doctor,” she said as casually as she could muster.  She forced herself not to smile, lest she draw the ire of her mate.

“No!” gasped the new Doctor, blinking up at Rose as if he’d seen an apparition.  He looked frightened, ready to bolt, yet not quite sure what to do.  Gasping for air, he spun around to shout in the direction of the now unseen blue box.

“ _WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE?!?_ ” he thundered.  

“Well, that kind of answers a question,” quietly said the brown-eyed Doctor in an aside.  “A couple of them, really.”

With a knowing glance at each other, Rose and the Doctor moved as one down the hill to stand a few feet away from the reeling Time Lord, who was staggering back to face them.  A myriad of emotions were playing across his strong features, not the least of which was sheer terror.  He was obviously confused, dismayed, but more than anything, visibly scared.  He backed up on their approach, uncertain.  His eyes shifted rapidly about, as if looking for a place to hide, or thinking furiously of what to say next.

“So, why _are_ you here?” asked Rose’s Doctor.  He was feeling bolder now, having caught the Time Lord in a weakened state of befuddlement.  He hadn’t deliberately come for Rose, that much seemed clear.  He hadn’t known where he was until he saw them.

The Doctor stared at his old face, regaining a bit of his control as he steadied himself.

“Why didn’t I feel your presence when I exited the TARDIS?” he asked, deigning not to answer the question.  Nothing peaked the Doctor’s interest like a mystery.  Rose noted that he had a faint Scottish accent.  Edinburgh?  No, _Glasgow_ , for sure.

“Mental shielding,” replied the meta-crisis.  He smiled inwardly, proud of the fact that he’d succeeded in concealing his Time Lord consciousness.

The older Doctor blinked.  “Shouldn’t be that good.  That’s better shielding than most full-blooded Time Lords have,” he added.  “I felt something, but I couldn’t identify it.”

“I learned it from my sister,” he responded, dangling a carrot he knew the Time Lord couldn’t resist.

“You don’t have a sister,” grunted the Doctor.

“I do now.”

The two Doctor’s faced off in a stare down, the older Doctor’s eyes beginning to take on a fiercer, more predatory look by the second.  Pocketing his sonic, he adjusted the sleeves of his white shirt before clasping his hands behind his back in a faintly professorial stance.

“So,” he finally said in a husky voice, “I’m back on Pete’s World.  Brilliant.”  His tone implied that he did not think that was a _good_ thing.  His eyes slid over to Rose, and he perused her a bit too long for the younger Doctor’s liking.

_Can I talk now?_ asked Kaster meekly at Rose’s feet.

“Shhhh, not yet,” Rose answered aloud.

“And you have a dog now.  How very domestic,” the Doctor said snidely.

“He’s my sister’s dog,” said the younger Doctor hotly.  “And he’ll take your grumpy face off if I tell him to.”

The Doctor stared at his meta-twin with an appraising look for all of one beat, and then a gigantic open-mouth grin spread across his face.  It was almost mad, as if it didn’t belong to the craggy, dour features, or as if he truly didn’t smile that often.  He laughed, an almost childish chuckle that also didn’t quite fit the image of the man before them.

“I didn’t come here on purpose,” he said, sobering.  “I should really leave right now, as much as I’m enjoying our little parley.” 

“Wait!” said Rose quickly, as he turned to walk away.  “Doctor, we need your help.”

The older Doctor froze in his steps.  He was never able to walk away from a plea for help, and Rose knew it.  He turned slowly.

“I can’t, Rose Tyler,” he responded uncertainly.  

The way he rolled the R’s in her name, as if he was committing the moment to memory, caused Rose to shiver slightly.  She looked deeply into his blue-grey eyes and saw an unspeakable pain.  Pain that was etched in every seam of his face, infused in the wildness of his eyebrows.  This Doctor was older, more mature, more damaged than she’d ever seen him before.  She felt a mist building behind her hazel eyes, and a tear spilled down her cheek before she could bite her lip to stem the flow.

“Rose?” prompted her bond-mate suddenly.  “Let him go.  He shouldn’t be here.  Even he knows that.”

And indescribable look spread over the older Time Lord’s face.  It settled into a look of capitulation, unable to bear the sight of tears on Rose’s face.  He stared at Rose anew, scanning her timeline, desperately seeking something that only he could see or understand.  Another wave of pain crossed his features as he reached a conclusion.

“What is it you would ask of me, Rose?” he ground out.  “I can’t take you back, if that’s what you’re wanting.  You belong here now, both of you.  Your timelines are very, very clearly delineated.”

He stared at the younger Doctor, giving him a look that would have made him squirm, if he hadn’t been damned and determined not to show the slightest intimidation. 

“I know,” answered Rose.  “It’s not us I’m askin’ for.  There’s two other people who have been trapped here, but are from our Prime universe.  Two people who accidentally fell through the rift.”

“You’re bonded, aren’t you?” asked the Doctor softly.  That flash of pain again.

“Yes,” hissed the younger Doctor.  “Full-fledged marriage bond, I’ll have you know.  And… we’re _expecting_ ,” he overly-enunciated in a gleefully evil voice.

“ _Doctor_ ,” admonished Rose.

The older Doctor was momentarily stunned, cocking his head with eyes widened.  Composing himself quickly, he turned to his meta-twin.

“So, you still call yourself the Doctor,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Why not.  It’s my name,” he responded stiffly.  It was more of a challenge than a statement of fact.

The Time Lord clasped his hands together, rolling his eyes in thought.  

“Yes, why not,” he finally agreed.

“So, can you help us?” asked Rose pleadingly.

“I’ll have to see,” he said quietly.  “Who are these two people?”

“Come back to camp with us,” said Rose.  “They’ll be there soon, an’ you can ask them whatever questions you may have.”

“You’re camping?”  He rolled his eyes again at the younger Doctor.  “That’s new,” he said pointedly.  “And cowboy boots!  Very _chic_.”

“At least I don’t look like a magician,” he shot back.

Before either could lob another insult, Rose punched her mate in the arm.

“It’s hot out here,” said Rose.  “Let’s get back to camp before Kaster and I turn into melted puddles of goo out here.”

Pivoting on her heels, she turned and headed back toward the cow path, Kaster in tow.

“Kaster?” asked the older Doctor, following his twin.  

“Kasterborous.”

“You named the _dog_ Kasterborous?!?” he asked, brows knitted.  “What’s wrong with K-9?  Perfectly good name for a dog.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” the younger man sighed.

They trekked at a reasonable pace down the cow path, not quite catching up to Rose, which was the younger Doctor’s goal.  He didn’t want this Doctor too close.  He still didn’t trust him in the least where Rose was concerned.  No one knew better than he how this Doctor felt about his mate, and he’d take no chances.

“Which incarnation are you, anyway?” he asked.

It appeared as if the older man wasn’t about to answer.  He was too busy staring down in disgust at the dust and bits of straw gathering on his Doc Martins.  Finally, after a significant pause, he answered.

“Twelve,” he said tersely.

“How’s that possible?”

“You should know better than to ask,” came the response.  

“Aww, come on,” pressed the Doctor.  “I’m inna parallel universe, so what harm can it do?  You shouldn’t have been able to regenerate more than one more time.”

“Yes, thanks to _you_ ,” grumbled the older Doctor, nodding his head toward his meta-twin.

“Still rude and not ginger, apparently,” the younger frowned back.

“Still unbearably _chatty_ , it seems,” retorted the Time Lord.

“ _Oi_ , it’s not my fault you regenerated with a gigantic stick up your arse!” he snarled.

The fierce Time Lord stopped and glared.  He might have been an inch or so shorter in this regeneration, but he made up for it with a heavy dose of gravitas.  

“Language,” he warned.  “Is that something else you’ve learned since arriving at Pete’s World?  Swearing is for those with limited intelligence and a diminutive vocabulary.” 

“Yea, well I don’t need to compensate for anything _diminutive_ with a great _big_ vocabulary and a stuffy suit,” snapped the Doctor.

“ _Oi!!_ ” yelled Rose up ahead.  “Don’t make me come back there.  I can hear you two from here.  Play nice.”

Both Doctors rolled their eyes, but simmered down.  

“Truce?” offered the younger Doctor.  “She’ll come back here and slap us so hard you’ll regenerate, and I won’t _have_ a face.”

Again, a saddened look clouded over the older man’s visage but, taciturn as ever, he merely walked quietly away.  His thoughts drifted back to his last companion, a spunky young lass who had threatened to deliver just such a slap.  A pity he couldn’t remember her face, but he remembered her words.

Not one to give up so easily, the younger man trotted into place to pace the older Doctor.  This man might not be as loquacious this incarnation, but his eyes told a different story.  Dropping his mental shields a bit, he waited.  A glance, out of the corner of his eye, was all that the younger Doctor was given.  

“You’ll get nothing from me,” growled the Doctor.

“Yea, kinda expected that,” the meta-twin needled.  “That’s pretty much what you left us with.  You didn’t even say goodbye to Rose.  Haven’t forgiven you for that.  Took us a long time to work through the pain you put her through.”

“I had no choice.”

“You could have explained to her.  I know there wasn’t much time, but you could have told her before we even landed on Pete’s World,” he said.

“Tell her what?” asked the elder, stopping to face him.  “Tell her about River?  Break her heart and _then_ drop her off?  Have you even the slightest idea what it cost me to leave her here?”

The younger Doctor’s eyes slid down to the older Doctor’s left hand.  His eyes rested on the double-banded yellow-gold jewellery adorning his ring finger.  One was a simple gold band; the other included a set with a greenish-amber stone.  

“So you _did_ marry her,” he said, almost inaudible.

“Yes,” the Doctor answered simply.  That mournful look was back.  So many words were left unsaid, but his eyes spoke on their behalf.

“Where is she now?” He knew the answer, but he dared to ask.

As somewhat expected, there was a significant pause.  This incarnation was either bluntly and brutally honest, or totally oblique.  There was no middle road.

“I’ve just left Darillium.  For the last time.”

“I’m sorry,” said the younger Doctor sympathetically.

“So am I.”

They walked silently for a while, the chestnut-haired Doctor mulling over what little he knew about this incarnation.  He was closed, well hard and mysterious.  He couldn’t be sure if he was just in mourning over his recent loss, or he’d always been that way.  He guessed it was the latter, but there was no question that he was significantly more dangerous and unstable after losing his wife.  A pang of empathy welled in him, in spite of trying not to.  He’d only known River Song barely three hours, and she’d irritated him to no end for most of that time.  In his timeline, River was dead long before he could develop any type of relationship with her.  Now, the cycle was complete.  Beside him walked the Time Lord who had ultimately suffered the loss.

“How old are you now?” he finally asked, almost an hour later.

The Doctor seemed almost startled by the question, having fallen into a sombre reverie of his own private thoughts.

“Ah, yes…,” he said, scratching at his nose.  “Either a bit over two thousand, or over 4.5 billion, depending on one’s perspective.  Prefer not to think of the latter.”

“Eh, _what?_ ” squeaked his walking companion, whose eyes turned owlish in astonishment.

“Count your blessings,” he said with a nod.  “You wouldn’t have wanted to see those years out.  I certainly didn’t.  Most of them weren’t… good.”

A thousand questions whirled through the younger Time Lord hybrid’s mind, undoubtedly none of which the elder Time Lord would answer.  No wonder he seemed so… old.  Old and tetchy.  This Doctor was well over twice his age by only the most conservative number. Considering the incredibly painful losses he had experienced in his mere 900, an over 2000 year lifespan seemed mind-boggling, even for him.  How had he survived that long?  How could he have managed to live that long and not go completely mad?  Or had he?

Suddenly, he felt like a child compared to this ancient being who walked quietly next to him.  Hardened and matured by another 1100-plus years of loneliness, without his Rose to comfort him, this man deserved every bit of respect he’d failed to give him so far. There was one burning question, though, that he had to ask.

“So what brought you here?”

“The TARDIS, you idiot,” the Doctor answered.  There was a twinkle in his eye that gave away the fact that he was being wilfully obtuse.  He relented, after spotting a pout beginning to contort the younger man’s face.  

“I’m not here to take Rose away from you, if that’s what’s worrying you,” he said, his face switching back to its normally solemn look.  “I received a message for help from across the Void.”  He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a wallet.

The younger Doctor frowned as he took the psychic paper into his hands.

In messy childish handwriting was a message, looking almost as if it was written in crayon.

**_Doktr_ ** **_, plese help_ **

“The TARDIS seems to think it’s from a child.  Somewhere on this planet is a very, very frightened young boy.”

“And you risked both universes to help a child?” asked the meta-twin in confusion.

“When have you ever known me not to help when asked?” he asked sternly.  “But that’s not the primary reason.  I’m trying to fix some of the damages done by the Time War.  There’s something about this universe that is still… broken.”

“You think?” snorted the younger man.  “That’s why we’re here now, trying to find evidence of Time Lords in this universe.  Do you think this is my idea of a holiday?”

“Oh, thank the gods,” mocked the older Time Lord.  “Finally. _I_ get to ask some questions!  Such as, why in blazes _are_ you out here in the middle of the great Nothingness?”  He pointed out a raised, red pockmark on his meta-twin’s neck.  “And you, getting stung by fire ants?  Is this some sort of new fire-in-the-belly manhood ritual or something?”

“Shut up,” muttered the Doctor, forgetting about his new-found respect for the older Time Lord.

“Oh, but you wanted me to talk!  Couldn’t stand the slightest shred of silence.  Now, here I am… _talking!_ Bet you didn’t see that coming,” he said sarcastically.

“Did you have to be so… _Scottish?_ ” groused the young Doctor.

“Not the first time, as you well know.  A lot taller and imposing this time, thank goodness.  And how about the Attack Eyebrows?  Impressive, eh?”  He flashed his magnificently bushy eyebrows, giving his walking companion a manic grin.

“Yea… impressive.  And sort of… well… formidable.”

“Good,” uttered the Doctor.  His face collapsed back into it saturnine norm, but there was a hint of a tug at the corner of a lip, indicating that he found the younger Doctor’s comment mildly amusing.

“So, what have you found so far?” he asked, once again falling back into a Socratic mood.

“Not much,” admitted the meta-twin.  “Torchwood found a piece of debris about an hour and a half away from here.  I believe it’s from a Type 55, Mark IV TARDIS.”

The older man stopped in his tracks.  “A battle TARDIS?” he asked.

“Yes, a relic from the Great Time War, right here in Pete’s World.  We’re not sure yet if it originated here, or somehow came across the Void.  Not enough pieces to determine the origin, so we’ve come here to see if there was a debris field and larger pieces.  Hal has found some fragments today, but I’ve not seen them yet.”

“That explains a great deal,” muttered the Doctor, deep in thought.

“Explains what?”

“The signatures I detected from a wormhole,” the elder Doctor muttered to himself.

“What wormhole?” The younger Doctor leaned forward, suddenly all ears.  The older Doctor lowered his head, gazing back with a crafty glower from beneath his knitted brow.

“Who’s this Hal you mentioned?” he asked after a pause.  

“My sister.  And what wormhole?  You’re talking to me now, so stop trying to change the subject.”

“Funny name for a girl,” said the Doctor.

“It’s short for Halley.  Why don’t you tell her you think it’s funny when you see her?  WHAT WORMHOLE??”

“Where’s the TARDIS truncheon I gave you?” persisted the Doctor, who stubbornly refused to stay on point.

“Growing, safely tucked into bed in my basement back home.  I can hear her singing right now.”

“She’ll be flight-worthy in a total of five years, if you follow Donna’s instructions,” he said.

“Yes, which is why I need the coordinates of that wormhole,” demanded the younger Doctor.  “That’s how you came across the Void, isn’t it?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes to the sky with a puzzled look.  “Uhm.. wormhole.  Did I come through a wormhole?  Or was it a rift?  Ah, this old brain of mine… Can’t seem to remember, now.  Just wait until you’re four and a half billion years-old!”

“Doctor, I am never going to be four and a half billion years-old,” sighed the younger Doctor in exasperation.  “One heart, remember?  I have a roughly human lifespan, so don’t expect me to have an infinite amount of time to figure things out.”

When it became fairly certain that the older Doctor was not going to reveal the location of the wormhole, he turned and resumed his walk at a faster pace than before.  

“How many regenerations do you have left, anyway?” he shot back behind him.

“I’m not sure,” said the Doctor, catching up to him with a few long strides.

“Seriously?”

“Could be a dozen more.  Could just keep going,” he said, giving a slight shrug of his thin shoulders.

“You’re serious,” the meta-twin muttered, running his fingers through the thick locks of his chestnut mane in frustration.  “How did that happen?  You shouldn’t have been able to get another cycle without the Time Lords, and they’re all gone!  You know that as well as I.  And who gets infinite cycles?  Only Rassilon had unlimited regenerations, last I checked!”

“Sorry,” shrugged the older man.  “I can’t tell you, especially if you’re planning to cross the Void into my universe.”

“I’m not staying.”

“It doesn’t matter,” explained the Doctor.  “As soon as you cross the Howling, everything changes.”

“You’re not talking about that stupid prophesy that we heard in the Cloisters, are you?  That idiotic drivel about the abominable Hybrid?  Obviously, that was a bunch of rubbish, seeing Gallifrey was destroyed long before my birth.  You have the nerve to insinuate the Hybrid is _me???_ It could easily have been referring to _you_ , you know!  That’s why we ran away in the first place.  Sometimes, you know, I wish I _were_ the Hybrid!  At least I’d have something.  But now there isn’t any rubble for me to stand in, thanks to us.”

The older Doctor’s complexion, already of a Scottish pallor, grew even more colourless, as if he was sickened.

“It isn’t you,” he said almost inaudibly, casting his eyes to the trail in front of them.

“What?”

“Never mind,” he said with a shake of his head.  “It doesn’t matter now.  This isn’t about any prophesy.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?  Help me out here, Doctor.  Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of Time.”

The Doctor continued his downward gaze, shoulders hunched and looking a bit broken as he spoke softly.

“I look at you and Rose, and I can see your Timelines as clearly as the lines in my face,” he said.  “If only you knew how much I envy you.  Especially you.”

“I hated you, you know,” his younger face said.  “I hated you when you left us, because Rose rejected me from the start.  It took her forever to accept me as the Doctor… her Doctor.  But then I came to understand what you were doing for us, and I started to think of you as a long lost brother.  When you regenerated, I felt it.  It came across the Void, so I know there’s a psychic link there.  But I didn’t know about you.  I didn’t feel your regeneration.”

“It’s still in your future.  A very long time into your future.  If you were to go back now, you would probably run into my last life.  You’d probably like him.  I was even more manic and chatty than when I was you, if you can believe that.  But, no, I don’t blame you for hating me.  I did what I thought best at the time. Having a taste of one’s own bitter medicine is never a treat.”

“I thought you left me because you thought of me as an inferior copy.”

The Doctor laughed bitterly.  “Do you really think I would leave Rose with an inferior copy?  Do you believe I thought so little of her that I’d leave her with a defective Time Lord?  And don’t forget about my brilliant Donna.  She was essentially your mother, and she imparted into you the best that the human race had to offer.  A new Doctor for a new universe, with his Rose at his side.  A fairy tale come true.  I needed to believe that, you know.”

“As long as we stay here, she will always be alive to you.  You’ll never have to suffer the loss of her death.  I did think of that.”

“Immortality is a double-edged sword, my younger brother.  It doesn’t feel like forever.  It feels like everyone else dies,” he said dolefully.

The younger Doctor smiled gently.  He’d never expected the Doctor to acknowledge their connection, genetically or familiarly.  

“You still love her, don’t you?”

“Does it really matter?” asked the Doctor, fixing his twin with a soulful look.

“It does to me, because I’m still struggling with the idea that you just happened to pop in only a few feet away from us,” said the younger Doctor.  “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Not really,” said the Doctor, a wan smile gracing his features.  “You are a child of the TARDIS, sparked by her energy.  Rose looked into her heart and was closer to the TARDIS than I can ever hope to be.  A baby TARDIS is growing right here on this planet, grounding her in two universes.  A human child cries for help across the Void, and you still think it is all a coincidence?”

The younger man shoved both hands into his pockets as he walked, mulling over the Time Lord’s words as his suspicions slowly waned.

“The TARDIS always takes me where I need to be,” explained the Doctor.  “There’s something here that I need to do, although I’m not quite sure what it is.”

A loud whoosh of leathery wings startled them both as a dragon flapped its wings to land in front of them, making the Doctor from Prime cringe in surprise.

“There be dragons here?” he asked shakily.

“Oh, yeah.  A big one,” the younger Doctor said, grinning like a maniac.  “Doctor, meet my sister, Hal.”

_What the hell is going on here?_ hissed Hal, swishing her tail in agitation.  _I can’t leave you alone for a freaking minute!_

“Uh oh, now we’ve done it,” said the younger man jokingly.  “You’d better talk fast for a change, or you’re headed for another regeneration.”

“What _is_ it with me and reptiles?” moaned the Doctor, scrubbing his long face in hands.  Composing himself quickly, he stepped forward to address the dragon twice his height.

“ _Hullooo_ , big sexy woman!” he shouted cheerily, arms akimbo.

He never saw the tail coming.

 


	49. Lay Your Hands on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking this up into smaller chapters. My Muse is goading me with a whip, I think. There should be another chapter by weekend.

 

“Didja have to knock him out _cold_ , Hal?” asked Rose, exasperated.  She had rushed back down the trail toward the two Doctors upon Hal’s fly-over, but she hadn’t expected to witness the older Doctor getting laid out flat by an irate dragon’s tail.

_He was being… cheeky,_ Hal stated flatly.  In her dragon form, it was impossible to tell if she was being contrite or defiant, but her telepathic voice surprisingly offered no clues to her intentions.

“He’s the Doctor!  Of course he was bein’ cheeky,” responded Rose, stooping to stroke the older man’s greying mass of hair.  Spread-eagled, the unconscious Time Lord appeared as limp and still as a broken doll.  Rose prodded gently at a good-sized lump along the left side of his head, hidden underneath his thick mane.  

Squatting down next to her, her mate stared down in puzzlement at the older man’s face.  For the first time since they’d met him, it was relaxed and expressionless.  Gone was the generally grumpy glower they had grown used to observing across his features.

“That’s weird,” said the younger Doctor quietly.  “I recognise that face now.  How did I not notice it before?”

“What?” asked Rose.

“That face.  I know where I’ve seen his face before.”

“Not sure I understand,” said Rose, who stopped tending to the Time Lord to turn to her bond-mate.

He rubbed his neck with a frown.  “I think I explained once that many Time Lords have some limited ability to control how they look in their next regeneration.  Time Ladies are a lot more adept at it, but it’s possible to select a face, if one is skilful and tries hard enough.  For some strange reason, he seems to have picked the face of a man we met in 79 A.D. in Pompeii.”

“Why would he do that?”

“No clue,” he muttered.  “Donna made me save a man and his family from the Vesuvius eruption.  His name was Lobus Caecilius.  He was a marble merchant who acquired the TARDIS by mistake when we parked it in a market.”

“Was he important, or something?” asked Rose, peering more closely at the still form.

“Nope, not in the least, that I know of.  He didn’t scowl all the time like this one, which is why I didn’t recognise the face at first.  Actually, Caecilius was kind of geeky and cheerful.  A pity he didn’t copy _that!_ ”

Rose sighed.  “Well, let’s get him back to camp and put some ice on that bump.  We’re only about a ten minute walk from it.  Too bad _someone_ didn’t think to knock him unconscious closer to camp,” she directed to Hal.  “I think you should carry him back, Hal.”

_Fat chance,_ she snorted.  _I’ve had quite enough of carrying frisky men on my back._

“Ugh,” groaned Rose.  “Kaster, go get Jack!  Tell him we need his help to carry the Doctor back.”

“Can he communicate with Jack?” asked the Doctor.

“Guess we’ll find out,” shrugged Rose.  “If nothing else, he can drag him by the sleeve.”

Some fifteen minutes later, Jack trotted into view, flanked by Kaster.  “Hey, your dog gave me a headache, Hal!” he yelled to the reclining dragon.  “What’s this about the Doctor being knocked unconscious?  He looks fine to….”

Stopping dead in his tracks from the recumbent Time Lord ten feet away on the ground, Jack stared at him with mouth slightly agape.

“Can you help us get him back to camp, Jack?” asked Rose.  “He doesn’t look too heavy, but I think you and the Doctor can handle him.”

“Rose…,” croaked Jack, barely able to speak a word.

“It’s the Doctor, Jack!  The Doctor from Prime.”

“That’s not the Doctor,” he stated emphatically.

“No, really, Jack,” insisted Rose.  “This is the Doctor.  He’s regenerated, that’s why you don’t recognise him.”

“No, no… that’s not the Doctor, Rose,” he retorted.  “I know that man.  I never forget a face, and I’m telling you, that isn’t the Doctor.  That man is John Frobisher, and I’ll never, ever forget what he looks like. Or what he did.”

“ _What?_ ” squeaked the younger Doctor. “Who the hell is John Frobisher?”

“I’m really, really confused now,” said Rose, a bit alarmed.  

“So am I,” replied Jack, “because John Frobisher should be dead.  But that is definitely Frobisher.”

“Jack,” interjected the meta-twin, “he’s really, really not.  I spent a couple of hours talking to him, and I assure you he’s the proper Doctor.”

“Alright, who do I have to slap to get this poor man back to camp and into the shade?” Rose threatened sternly as she stood erect.  “We can argue about whose face he has later.”

Flapping mightily to gain enough lift, Hal flew back toward camp in answer.  

“Brilliant,” muttered Jack, who took the upper torso of the limp Time Lord by the underarms.  Hiking the long legs up on either side of his hips, the younger Doctor took point to lead them back to the campsite.  

“Oi, he’s heavier than he looks,” grunted the Doctor, trying not to stumble.

“Stop your whinging,” Rose ordered in a nonsense tone.  “This is all your sister’s fault, you know.  Less than a minute after she meets him, she tries to regenerate him.”

“Yea, she does that,” he puffed in exertion.

They reached camp after twenty minutes of struggling with the dead weight of a still unconscious Time Lord, Rose growing more concerned by the minute.

“Do ya think he has a concussion?” she asked as they spread a wool blanket out in the shade of the shelter tent.  On knees next to his still body, she once again stroked the older man’s face.  Rose was fascinated in the changes she saw there.  The loose skin around his jowls, the crinkly lines around his eyes and lips, the permanent furrow between his brows, were all so different than what she’d imagined he’d look like in a future regeneration.  She wanted him to open those big blue eyes again so she could look deeply into them.  She wanted to truly see her old Doctor in them, to feel that connection she had to believe was still there.

She truly loved her new Doctor with all her heart.  She knew without the slightest doubt that she would never leave him, but she worried for her old Doctor still.  Was he alone?  Where had he gone after they parted at Bad Wolf Bay?   Had he suffered, or had he carried on as if nothing had happened?  What had happened to him that he’d regenerated _twice?_  Her heart constricted at the thought that he had moved on, yet was conflicted at the thought that she sincerely hoped he had.  She lifted his left hand, gazing at the gold bands with a mixture of emotion.

_He married River_ , her bond-mate informed her quietly, reaching tentatively through their bond.  There was a sadness infused in the thought, as if something was being held back.  _We had a nice, long talk on the way back._

_Then why isn’t she with him?  Is she back in the TARDIS?_

_No, Rose.  Unfortunately, she’s been lost.  She’s gone to the Library.  Recently, I’m afraid,_ he explained.

Rose chewed at her lip.  She willed the tears not to come, but they spilled in complete defiance, her heart breaking for her older Doctor.  He was still partially her Doctor, in spite of all that had happened.  He still shared a good amount of the same memories as the man she now called husband.

“’S not fair,” said Rose aloud, hoping whatever Fates there were hanging about would hear her.  “Every time he finds the least little bit of happiness, it gets taken from him.”

A low groan alerted them that the Time Lord was coming around.  Weakly, he reached up to touch his head, but Rose captured the hand in hers.

“Doctor, can you hear me?” Rose asked quietly.

“Yea…,” he breathed, eyes still clamped shut.  “My head hurts.”

“Jus’ lie still.  We think you have a concussion.”  Before she could say another word, he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

From around the right of the tent appeared Hal, who had shifted into humanoid shape and dressed into an Evanescence band t-shirt and jeans.  Rose shot her a glare as she stooped down at the Time Lord’s head.

“Waking up yet?” Hal asked, not yet daring to touch the supine figure.  She could easily feel the waves of protectiveness radiating from Rose, who seemed almost wolf-like as she crouched at his side.  She could see the tracks of tears down her face, so now was not a good time to test her patience.  Even the younger Doctor, who flanked Rose, seemed on edge.  She sensed, however, that his anxiety stemmed more from Rose’s concern over the felled Time Lord.  She reached out through her bond in a tight private whisper.

_How is Rose?  She’s obviously not too happy with me right now._

_Well, I wouldn’t want to be you at this instant,_ he admitted.  

Hal sighed, then reached out with both hands to touch the older Time Lord’s head.  Before her fingers connected with his face, Rose’s hand shot out to brush them aside.

“You’ve done enough,” she snarled at Hal, her whisky-hazel eyes blazing.  Wincing visibly, Hal leaned back and lowered her eyes.

“I can help him, if you’ll allow me.”

“You must never, ever again harm him, Hal,” warned Rose.  “This man is under my protection, and any of us will give our lives to keep him safe.  Including you.  Is that understood?”

Nodding submissively, Hal leaned forward again to place her fingertips along the Doctor’s temples and cheeks.  He twitched slightly, then relaxed as Hal closed her eyes.  

Without the noisy cacophony of a fully-awake Time Lord mind, Hal easily shifted her own consciousness to focus on the physical aspects.  Sifting down through the dense layers of nerve tissue, she carefully traced nerve bundles, arteries and veins, in a scan more detailed and accurate than any 21st Century medical diagnostic device.  

Hal couldn’t help but be impressed by the complexity of the Doctor’s brain structure, at how the ganglion fibres formed almost discreet secondary brains, or at the speed at which the synapses fired.  She had to call herself back to task, making a mental note to ask her brother to let her take a look at his brain.  Although she had pretty much delved his thought processes, she’d never truly performed a diagnostic scan such as the one she was now attempting on the older Doctor.  

_Oops._

At the point where Hal was almost satisfied that there was no permanent damage to the Time Lord’s brain, she ran across a leaking capillary deep in his cerebral cortex.  It had been covered by a secondary vessel of his binary circulatory system, and it only spurted when the secondary vessel moved as it pulsed.  It was certainly not serious enough to kill or impair the Doctor, but it would probably give him a ferocious headache.  Undoubtedly, it was the main reason for the length of his unconscious state, his body opting to keep him still as it attempted to repair the damage.

Taking a deep breath and fixing the vision of the ruptured capillary in her mind, Hal projected her life force in a narrow band, pinpointing it at the site of the break.  The rupture sealed and stabilised just as she felt a stab of pain in the middle of her forehead.  She felt a throb on the the left side of her head as she tended to the swelling on his scalp.  Satisfied, she slowly withdrew her mind and relaxed.

“Ooooh, that’s nice,” slurred the Doctor in a breathy sigh, eyes still closed.

“What’s wrong?” asked the younger Doctor, who noticed Hal wincing.  She seemed disoriented and faint, almost slumping over until he reached out to grab her arm.

“It’s ok,” she assured him, then sat down gingerly at the older Doctor’s head.  “He had a small bleed in the frontal lobe.  It’s fixed now.  Nothing to worry about.”

“Except, now you have it,” he frowned.

“Yea, goes with the territory of being an empath.  Besides, I’m the one who gave it to him.  I’ll be fine in an hour.  Next time, ask him for a lift in the TARDIS instead of trekking for hours.”

Rose regarded Hal with a look of awe, her anger having evaporated in the few minutes it took to heal the Doctor’s concussion.  “That was amazing,” she said.

“Don’t tell anyone,” said Hal, wrapping her arms around her knees.  “I’m not ready to be chased all over the galaxy every time someone cuts a finger or gets shot by a gun.  Really don’t relish the idea of taking on a gunshot wound in the gut for somebody.”

“What if I back up into a cactus,” joked the younger Doctor with a grin.

“I have tweezers for that,” she snorted.

“You’d pluck cactus spines from my bum?”

“Ha!” laughed Hal.  “Didn’t say that, just said I have tweezers.  Rose can stare at your backside for hours, but count me out.”

“I’ll do it,” said Jack.  Sitting in a folder chair a few feet behind Rose, he held up his half-empty bottle of beer in a cheeky cheers.

“Behave!” laughed Rose.  She turned back to a pair of blue eyes regarding her in wonder.  

“Well, hullo,” she said softly, gently pushing back greying curls from the Doctor’s forehead.  “Are ya back with us?”

Trying to get his bearings, the Doctor sat up carefully on his elbows and glanced around.

“Careful,” warned Rose.  “You’ve got a nasty bump on your head.”

“I remember now,” he said in a low voice.  “There was a dragon, I think.  She was quite cross!  Where’d she go?”

“Right here,” said Hal behind him, startling the Doctor, who twisted around to see her.

“Woah, there,” said the younger Doctor, steadying him with a hand at his back.  The older Doctor stared, wide-eyed, at the young blonde as she stood up to move next to him.

“Shapeshifter?” he asked finally.

“Yes, obviously,” responded Hal.  

“Why did you whack me?” he asked, puzzled.

“You were flirting.”

“No, I wasn’t,” argued the Doctor.

“Oookay,” drawled Rose.  “Let’s stop this line of interrogation and get you up before she wallops you over the head again.”  Rose stood up and held her hand out to the Doctor, who automatically reached back.  He stopped just short of touching her.

“Uh, permission to touch the wife?  Uh, just the hand, that is,” he asked the younger Doctor.

“Permission granted,” sighed the younger man.

Rose giggled, grasping the Doctor’s outreached hand to help him to his feet.  

“You’ve learned a few manners, it seems.”

“Lifetimes of slaps,” he said, brushing off his trousers.  “I’ve found that the strength of the slap is inversely proportional to the height of the woman.  It was learn, or regenerate on a fairly regular basis.”

The Doctor straightened his coat, then did a double-take as he spied Jack in the chair.  He had been hidden from view behind Rose, but now was fully visible now that the Doctor was on his feet.

“Captain Jack Harkness?” asked the Doctor, brows knitted in confusion.

“Doctor,” greeted Jack coolly.

“Oh, come on,” grumbled the Doctor.  “There can’t be _two_ of you.”  He squinted, trying to discern a timeline, and wobbled as a wave of vertigo hit him.

“The one and only,” said Jack in answer.

“So, let me guess,” said the Doctor, starting to gesture wildly.  “Dragon Lady over here and you are the two that Rose said fell into a rift and ended up in Pete’s World?”

“Did he just call me a Dragon Lady?” scowled Hal.  

“Actually, I jumped into a black hole and fell out of a rift here,” explained Jack.  Still cool, he made no attempt to approach.

“Tent, the lot of you,” ordered Rose, sensing a storm of emotion brewing.  “Doctor, get another chair for the… uhm… the Doctor.”

“Well, that’s awkward,” Jack smiled stiffly, picking up his folding chair to take into the tent.  “Two Doctors.  Maybe we should call them Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

“Shut it, Jack!” hissed Rose.  Her lip twitched in amusement, in spite of her warning.

“Perhaps he’s right,” mused the older Doctor.  Rose moved her chair out next to the back tent wall and motioned him into it.  He sat slowly, as if uncomfortable in the confined quarters of the tent.  The younger Doctor returned with a chair and positioned it next to the door.  He sat, partially blocking the only exit.  Resigned to having to see this extremely coincidental adventure through, the Doctor sighed.

“You may call me… Twelve,” the Doctor said, a momentary grimace indicating that he didn’t really like the idea.  "You“re the Doctor for this world, so it’s only fair that you claim it here,” he said with a nod to his old twin.

_Oooo_ _, my name used to be Six!,_ piped up Kaster from beneath the kitchen table.  _But Hal changed it, and I like my new name a lot better._

The twelfth Doctor, newly renamed, almost started out of his chair.  He pointed shakily to the pup under the table.

“You have a talking dog??  A _telepathic_ talking dog?  Is he a shifter, too??” he gasped in a high voice.

“No, he doesn’t shift,” said Rose.  “But didn’t ya hear him before?”

“No!”

“Ah, that would be because of me,” said Hal, shaking her head.  “My connection to Kaster must have leaked into… Twelve… when I….”  She stopped, suddenly sensing that this would be a bone of contention with the Time Lord.

“When you… what?” asked Twelve, staring at Hal from beneath his eyebrows.  He was clearly not happy.

“You had a concussion; a slight bleed in your frontal lobe,” explained Hal gently.  “I had to fix it.”

“How?”

Hal shifted her gaze down to the tent floor.  “There’s this… thing I can do with my mind.  I can transfer physical damage in an organism to myself, to heal them.”

“So, you’re a shifter and an empath,” said Twelve slowly, his voice dropping almost an octave.  “You went swanning around in my mind while I was unconscious.”

“In your head, yes,” admitted Hal.  “Not in your mind, since you were unconscious.  There was little mind to rummage through, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Stay out of my head,” warned the older man sharply.

“She was jus’ tryin’ to help, Docto…, I mean, Twelve,” stammered Rose.

“I think I would have been fine, no thanks to her,” he grumbled.  He steepled his fingers, staring above them to the small group crowded into the tent.  He looked to each of them in turn, then looked away.

“I’m not sure if I can help you,” he said finally.  

 


	50. You Can't Always Get What You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time for Twelve... again.

 

“I’m not sure if I can help you.”

“But Doctor… _Twelve,”_ Rose corrected herself again.  “Hal has a twin sister back home.  Her sister is pregnant with twins, and Hal is closely bonded with her.  Her family needs her!” she implored, fluttering her hands in agitation. 

“You have a twin?” Twelve asked of Hal, one eyebrow cocked in surprise.

“Yes,” breathed Hal.  She was obviously not voluntarily granting any information.  

“That’s scary,” said the older man, almost jokingly.  He paused, noting that Hal had not reacted to his little jab, but had instead locked eyes with his meta-twin.  To his surprise, they seemed engaged in a private telepathic conversation.

“Oh,” he said, “now I get it.  How very quaint.  You have a sibling bond, don’t you?  I wondered what all this talk was about having a sister.”

Shifting his gaze back to the older man, the Doctor nodded once.  His expression was one of defiance, as if expecting a snide remark back from his older twin.

“Oh, I’m not judging you,” said Twelve, clasping his hands together.  “The Gallifreyans in the drylands still practice bonding.”

“ _Still._ You said _still_ ,” the Doctor said quietly, a look of astonishment on his face.  “Gallifrey is back!”

“I… I didn’t say that,” stuttered the older Doctor, sitting upright into his chair with a look of consternation on his face.  Damn.  That’s why he chose to utter as few words as possible.  His gob always got him in trouble, he berated himself.

“So, that’s how you got past the twelve regenerations!  The Time Lords are back, just as I thought!  But how did they get through the timelock??  What if they… How…”

Twelve held his hand up, gesturing to the younger Doctor to stop.  He stood up from his chair, sighing.

“This is why I shouldn’t be here.”

“But the TARDIS brought you where you needed to be,” insisted the Doctor, rising to move closer to his twin.  “You acknowledged that yourself.”

“I can’t risk telling you everything,” Twelve retorted, voice raised in frustration.  “I cannot risk undoing everything we did to right a wrong.  Everything that’s happened since you were created, all of it, _has_ to happen exactly as it did.”

“But, the Time War…”

“Still happened,” finished Twelve.  “It just doesn’t end the way you remember it.”

“Gallifrey burned,” whispered the Doctor, a look of horror on his face as he remembered the event forever seared into his mind.  “I counted them one day, you know.  I counted how many children died on Gallifrey that day.  2.47 billion.  I’ve had a lot of time here to think of that, and what we might have done to prevent it.”

“We were wrong,” said Twelve gently.  “Our greatest secret has been revealed.  And out of that revelation came the most remarkable miracle.  I can’t tell you what happened, and I am so sorry, but you will always remember that day… as will I.”

The younger Doctor swallowed hard, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing visibly on his long, graceful neck.  

“I’m a Time Lord, you know,” he said, giving the older man a sharp look.  “I regained my Time Lord abilities in this world.  For what good that is, given my short lifespan and one heart.”

Twelve nodded.  “I know.  I felt it when you dropped your mental barriers.”

“Then why can’t you tell me what’s happened?”

“You’re a Time Lord, just as you say, Doctor of Pete’s World,” said the older man with a faint smile.  “You will know what should and shouldn’t be done… when the time comes.  Too much knowledge will risk everything, and I think you know that.”

“Yea… guess so,” muttered the Doctor, deflated.

“Look at your sister, and tell me what you see,” the older man said, pointing casually toward Hal.

The Doctor turned to peer closely at Hal, squinting as he tried to visualise her timeline.

“I can’t really make out anything,” he said after a few seconds.  “Kind of blurry, because she’s too close to my own timeline.”

“What does that tell you?”

Shaking his head, the Doctor looked back to the older Time Lord.  “Shouldn’t that be her choice?”

“Of course,” responded Twelve.  “But I can see her timeline fairly clearly, and it’s fractured.  She has many choices, none of which are yet fixed.”

Hal squirmed, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation.  

“Uhm, I’m sitting right here,” she muttered.  “It’s like having two doctors discuss my medical condition as if I weren’t there.”

“Ah, yes,” smiled Twelve.  “Turnabout is fair play.  But you have a decision to make, my dear.”

“I’m not your _dear_ anything,” she snapped back.

“Don’t antagonise him.  This is your chance, Hal,” said Rose next to her ear.  “You can be with your family again!”

Hal looked uncertain, and not a little frightened as she contemplated what was being offered to her.  She looked back to her sibling, a bit calmer.

“You have two families now, don’t you?” Twelve asked her, not unkindly.

“Yes,” she said in a whisper, never taking her eyes off the meta-twin that she now considered her brother.

“But…” started Rose in confusion.

“Rose, what do you think it will do to them, if I take her back with me?” asked Twelve, nodding toward the Doctor.  

“What would happen if I went back?” asked Hal, who cast her eyes down to the floor, unsure.

“There will be consequences,” said the older man gravely.

“Aren’t there always?” mumbled Hal, a slight bitterness creeping into her voice.

“There will be consequences for both universes, Hal.  You must choose carefully.  And even if you do choose to go back, I’m not sure I will actually take you.”

“Oh, an’ here we go,” said Rose, springing angrily to her feet.  “You give her a choice, an’ then you take it back.  Always with the makin’ decisions for everybody, ‘cause _you_ know best, yea?”

The older Time Lord, crestfallen, backed up as Rose advanced. 

“But… but, Rose…” he stammered.  He stopped as his backside bumped into the kitchen table, jiggling the propane stove. 

“You never give us a choice, Doctor,” said Rose in a loud voice, still advancing.  “You always give your enemies a choice.  I’ve seen ya rush back into danger jus’ to give ‘em a chance, but never the people ya love!  You make our choices for us, an’ you’re _rubbish_ at it, Doctor!”

The younger Doctor cleared his throat, looking as shaken as Twelve at Rose’s tirade.

“Uhm, I think you two probably need to have a little talk,” said the Doctor, nodding toward the door to the others.  “Good luck, mate,” he shot Twelve in parting, as they all slipped quietly through the tent flap.  Even Kaster slinked out with his stubby tail tucked.

“Rose…,” started the Time Lord, staring up into nothingness.  Anything but to meet Rose’s eyes as she took one last step to stand directly in front of him.  A moment from one of his worst nightmares was upon him, and he could do little but pant softly in rising anxiety.  

“Look at me,” commanded Rose.

“I can’t,” said Twelve shakily.  He closed his eyes tightly, terrified of what she would ask next.

“Look… at… me…,” repeated Rose slowly, her eyes never leaving his face.

Twelve gave a soft groan, then slowly opened his eyes to gaze back at Rose’s face.  Only after a brief second did he meet her eyes.  His knees weakened, as he slowly sat on the edge of the table.  

Staring deeply into her old Doctor’s steel-blue eyes, not so unlike those of her first Doctor’s, Rose searched for the man she knew was behind them.  Suddenly, she could see him… her first Doctor… the one who took her hand and told her to run.  Then, her brown-eyed Doctor, who was still very much with her and held her heart.  But there was much more… so much pain, so many years that she knew nothing about.  Reaching up ever so slowly, she gently placed the palm of her hand to his left cheek.

The Twelfth Doctor shivered, closing his eyes.  When he opened them again, Rose could see moisture gathering along their reddened rims.  Stubborn to a fault, he would not see them spill, but Rose could feel the power of his emotions through her touch.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye,” she asked, her gaze softening.  

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Rose,” he whispered.  He choked on his words, and looked away.  “I couldn’t,” he finally continued.  “If I’d said goodbye… if I’d even tried, I would have swept you away and taken you back.  And I couldn’t… because I saw your timelines.  You had to stay here.”

Rose nodded.  “I get that,” she said.  “We thought that was what happened, but you could have told us instead of that malarkey about him bein’ dangerous.  I treated him very poorly, ya know, thinkin’ he wasn’t you.”

“I know.  I’m so sorry.  It was just another lie, more so for me than anything.  I was still angry, so angry that he’d killed all the Daleks.  As if I could ever do that properly,” he added with a rueful expression.

She dropped her hand down to his left hand, lifting it up and touching the gold bands on his ring finger. 

“You could’ve told me about _her_.”

“But I didn’t know!” he said with an imploring look.  “I didn’t know for sure, and we had so little time together when you came back.  All I knew is that she knew my name.  My real name.  I only knew her three hours, and then I didn’t meet her again until after I regenerated into my last body.”

Rose tipped his chin to force him to meet her eyes again.  “I know your name,” she said.

“Yes,” he said with a wan smile.  “And you have no idea how happy that makes me feel.”

“So, you married this River Song?”

“Yes,” he said, shifting his gaze elsewhere again.

“An’ you were bonded?”

“No!” Twelve said emphatically, eyes snapping back in earnest to Rose’s.  “I’ve never bonded with anyone, ever.  And I doubt that I ever will, Rose Tyler.”

“But she knew your name,” stated Rose in confusion.

“She, uh, had other means of extracting it,” he mumbled, his face and neck flushing a pinkish hue.

“Oh,” uttered Rose, feeling a spark of jealousy settle in her stomach.  “So, why _did_ you marry her?”

“I had to.  There was a crucial fixed point that she was a part of, and I had to marry her to get her to do it.  If she didn’t, all of Time and Space would descend into chaos.”

“You married her to preserve the timelines?” asked Rose, incredulous.  “You didn’t love her?”

The Time Lord squirmed uncomfortably, still very reticent when it came to expressing his true feelings.  Unless, of course, it was negative emotions, when he had no qualms about wielding his tongue like a well-honed weapon.  A lie was much handier in other situations, but he steeled himself to tell the truth this time.  It would almost assuredly be the only opportunity he had.  If he’d learned nothing after spending four and a half billion years in a Confession Dial, not telling the truth could sometimes consign you to your own personal Hell.

He took a deep breath, and stared resolutely at the tent floor.  There was tremendous shame in what he was about to say, but his judge and jury were none other than Rose Tyler.  He would confess to her, or to no one.

“I did, in my own pitiful way,” he said in a husky whisper.  “She was a good friend.  She was smart, brave, resourceful and fierce as any tigress.  We didn’t travel together all the time, but she saved my life more times than I can count, and I loved her beyond measure… as a good friend.  We were a perfect fit in every way, but where it counted the most.  I’m afraid I was never able to return her love the way she wanted me to.  Not like....”  

He stopped, a look of devastation seeping into his features.  Rose placed her hand on his arm, but remained silent.

“Please, don’t make me say it,” he said in such a low voice that Rose could barely hear him.  He looked so old, so terribly broken at that moment.  Trying not to burst into tears, Rose took a deep breath when she felt able to speak again.

“’s ok, I already know, Doctor,” she finally said.  “My Doctor has told me countless times, an’ I feel it.  I know how strongly he feels about me, an’ he’s still you.  Was you, anyway.  He’s doin’ everything he possibly can to make me happy an’ keep me safe, jus’ as you would have.”

Twelve nodded.  “He will be everything for you that I could never be, Rose.  The two of you will be incredible together.  I… I wish I could see it.  I wish I could see your children; that I could live vicariously through you.  But this world needs you more.”

“We’re fine, but I worry about you.  You seem so lost.”

“I was lost long ago, Rose,” he said sincerely.  “All I can do is try to make amends for all the wrongs I’ve committed in a life far, far too long.”

“Don’t say that!” said Rose, grasping his arm tightly.  “Don’t you dare!  Find someone else to travel with.  You should never be alone.  You are so rubbish at bein’ alone.”

He gave a thin laugh.  “Why does everyone tell me that?”

“’Cause it’s true.”

“What is the point, when all I do is lose them?” he said, looking up to Rose again.  “No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to protect them, I still lose them, Rose.  I’m so tired of losing the people I love!  It’s not fair.  It’s just not fair!”

Rose grasped his face in both hands, and without another word she pulled his head down to plant her lips gently to his.  It was a mostly chaste kiss, but imbued with so much emotion that the Doctor groaned.  When she pulled away seconds later, there was a look of utter wonder on his features that made Rose smile.

“We love you, Doctor.  An’ we’re not lost.  We’re here in Pete’s World an’ soon we’ll have a TARDIS an’ a family.  Your family.  We’ll be time-travelin’… all over.  It won’t jus’ be the old slow path for us, ya know?  If you decide to come back, you don’t need to worry that we’ll be all old or… dead… if you time it right, yea?  We could be young an’ alive five billion years from now, swanning about in our TARDIS.”

“True,” he said, gently reaching up to touch his lip.  

“So, stop your whingin’ about bein’ the Last of the Time Lords, all alone.  You’re no longer the last, you’re loved, an’ you don’ need to be alone.  Find someone to travel with, ok?”

“Yes, yes,” he answered absently, still bemused by Rose’s impromptu kiss.

“Oh, he’s going to kill me,” he said finally.


	51. Hello, Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hal must make a terrible choice. What will it be? And she uncovers a little secret about Twelve's missing memory.

 

“You know you’ve just left your wife alone with the only man in two universes who has the means and the motive to steal her, right?” asked Hal, jabbing the Doctor in the ribs with her elbow.

They were climbing up the nearby prominent hill, which Hal affectionately called ‘the Knob’ after the hill on her family’s Prime ranch.  Kaster had sprinted ahead, galloping about the top in an unseen track as he waited for the slower humanoids to catch up.

Giving Hal a mock glare, he snorted.  “He could _try_ to steal her,” he said confidently.

“Madman with a big blue box, who just happens to be an old flame,” she persisted in teasing him.  “Just sayin’.  And oh, did I mention it travels in Time and Space?”

“That’s my line,” the Doctor said, a shadow of a doubt crossing his face.

“Rosie wouldn’t do that,” remarked Jack, who flanked him.  “She’d never run off without saying something.”

“Oh, great!  That’s really reassuring, Jack!” the Doctor said with an eye roll.  

“Well, I’m sure Persephone didn’t exactly have time to ring her mum when Hades whisked her off, either,” needled Hal.

Whirling around, the Doctor appeared determined to bolt down the hill back toward the campsite until Hal grabbed his arm.

“Relax,” she grinned.  “Do you really think I would have left her alone with him without probing his mind first?”

“You probed his mind?!?”

“Of course,” said Hal.

“That’s awful, Hal.  What have I said about digging around in people’s minds without permission?”

“Never crossed your mind, then?” asked Hal as they turned back to resume their climb.

“Might have done.”

“You’re not curious, then, about what he was thinking when he saw Rose?” Hal prodded.

“I’m him, remember?”  He stopped to regard Hal with a serious look.  “So, what _was_ he thinking?”

“I thought you didn’t want me rummaging around in anyone’s head.”

“Oh, come on!” he protested.  “You’ve already got the goods, so you might as well tell me.”

“Oh, there’s some cowboys in there.  But you probably already knew that.”

The Doctor shook his head.  “I’m surprised, given his age, that he didn’t detect you poking around in there.”

“He was too busy retreating from Rose’s guerrilla assault,” she grinned.  “But he’s rather vulnerable right now.  I don’t need to tell you that he’s still madly in love with her, do I?”

“No,” he said flatly.  “But is he mad enough to abduct her?”

“I don’t think so,” she replied.  “Besides, Bad Wolf would take him apart if he tried,” she added in a low voice out of Jack’s earshot.

Shrugging, the Doctor thought carefully before speaking again.  “I wonder if he even knows Bad Wolf is still there.  I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t get that close,” said Hal.  “He’s alone again, you know.  His last companion is… dead, I think.”

“Dead?  You… _think?_ ”

“Yeah,” mused Hal.  “There’s something really weird about that, too.  I only caught snatches of memories, but it’s like she died three or four times in different ways.  And he’s trying to pretend like he doesn’t remember her, but he does.”

“What?”

“You know how you tell yourself a lie so well that you believe it yourself?” she asked him.

“Uh, _noooo_ ,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow.  “I take it you’re speaking from experience?” 

“Oh, shut up,” laughed Hal.  “You’re a _dreadful_ liar, so don’t even try that.”

“What’s he trying to hide, then?”

“Well, apparently his companion was someone named Clara.  She was taken by a Quantum Shade, and somehow he got to an extraction chamber on Gallifrey to pull her out a second before she died.  He was planning to wipe her memory of him with a… a… neuroblock?  So the Time Lords couldn’t find her through memories of him.”

“Oh, not again!” groaned her sibling.  “That’s becoming something of an M.O. with him.  But I’m so jealous.  Gallifrey is back, and I missed its return.”

“But perhaps not here.  He did say that this universe is still broken somehow.  Could that be what he’s talking about?  The Time Lords are back in Prime, but not here?”

“Perhaps,” he said.  “That’s probably our task to recreate them here.  But what happened to Clara?  Did he wipe her memories?”

“It appears that she told him she had reversed the polarity of the neuroblocker.”

“If it was human-compatible, it wouldn’t have worked.  He’s not human, so it wouldn’t have had any effect on him,” said the Doctor.

“Exactly,” nodded Hal.  “It didn’t, but he pretended as if it did.  He later found Clara in a Type 40 TARDIS disguised as a diner in New Mexico.  She pretended not to recognise him, so he told her the whole story, like a complete madman, starting with how he escaped from being trapped in a….”   

Hal stopped, and gave the Doctor a puzzled look.  “What’s a Confession Dial?  I’ve gleaned a lot from you, but I’ve missed the details of some stuff.”

“Thanks for that,” he said dryly.  It still galled him that he didn’t know as much about Hal as she knew about him.  “It’s a device that acts as sort of a Purgatory for dying Time Lords after they’ve used up all their regenerations.  It is used to purify the soul and allow the Time Lord to make his or her peace before being uploaded to the Matrix.”

“He was trapped in it for billions of years, Doctor.  He had to chip through a wall of Azbantium with his fist.  He died, over and over, copying himself with the transmat each time he reached the end of a cycle.  The whole time, he was being chased by some creature that terrified him.  It was only at the point where he reached the wall that he remembered the previous cycle.  He was told later that if he had simply confessed what he knew of the Hybrid, he would have been released.”

“Oh, my God,” gasped the Doctor.  “That’s the four and a half billion years he mentioned!  The years he said he didn’t want to think about.  I can see that.  But why, when he was still living?  And who put him in it?”

“Rassilon.  Rassilon wanted to know who the Hybrid was.  And the Doctor wanted to save Clara, because he blamed the Time Lords for her death.  He had suffered… horribly, and was mad with grief.  Each time the transporter brought him back, to him it was as if it had been minutes since Clara’s death.  His grief was refreshed each time along with his body… for billions of years.  When he broke through the Azbantium wall, he found himself back on Gallifrey.”

They had reached the top of the hill, and just in time.  The Doctor’s legs felt like water.  The idea of spending billions of years, trapped anywhere, sickened him.  He slumped to the ground under the nearest tree, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.  

“I don’t know what to say,” he said, stunned.  “That’s a horrendous story, but such atrocities fit with what I know of the later Time Lords.  But something else has happened.  Why would they give him more regenerations, and then torture him?”

“They gave him the regenerations to allow him to save them, to be honest.  There were several years between that event and his being trapped in the Confession Dial.  I don’t think it was as much the Time Lord Council as it was Rassilon who wished him ill,” said Hal.  “The Doctor’s anger seems to be focused on him.  When he reached Gallifrey, he ousted Rassilon and the prevailing High Council.  Then he extracted Clara and ran with her in a stolen TARDIS.  He thought they could shake the Quantum Shade if they went far enough.”

“No, nothing can shake a Quantum Shade,” he said sadly.  “There’s nowhere in Time and Space you can go that it won’t find you.  But her life processes are time-locked now.  It can’t hurt her, unless the Time Lords find her and put her back into her time stream.”

“Why didn’t he just tell them what they wanted to know?” asked Jack, who sat next to Hal.

“Because he thinks he _is_ the Hybrid,” said Hal.  “And because he’s a stubborn git.”

“Wow,” said the Doctor.  “And I thought Iwas bull-headed.  I think I would have told them my proper name to get out of there after… oh, maybe a thousand years.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Hal said, giving him a cocked eyebrow.  “You hate traps.  I can’t imagine you being any less obstinate than if someone was to be foolish enough to put you in a torture chamber.  The only reason you stay here is because of Rose.”

“Could he be the Hybrid?” asked Jack.

“I don’t think so,” the Doctor responded softly.  “But that’s the problem with Matrix prophesies.  They never give you any useful information.  Just ‘the bleedin’ Hybrid is coming and all Hell is gonna break loose’ type of vague pablum.  A drawing would have been nice.  Now that I know that Gallifrey is back, I would be the primary suspect for the Hybrid if I went back to Prime.”

“But he doesn’t suspect you,” said Hal.  

“No, he told me as such.  But just because he thinks _he’s_ the Hybrid doesn’t mean I’m _not_.”

“Huh… ego much?” chuckled Hal.

“So, how _did_ you get that amount of information out of him in such a short time?” he asked Hal, scratching the back of his head.  “Not that you didn’t do the same with me.”

Hal smiled.  “It’s not my fault you Time Lords have a so many thought streams going at once.  I think half his brain is asleep during a conversation with us lot, the other half is mostly daydreaming while only a miniscule amount is paying attention.”

“Like a cetacean,” remarked Jack.  “Only half their brains are asleep at a time.”

“Oh, one of my favourite forms is an orca,” said Hal.  “Orcas are cool.”

“Fat lot of good that would do you out here,” chortled the Doctor.  “I’d pay to see you beached and rolling around on the sand and rocks.”

Hal gave him a playful punch in the arm as they laughed.  

“Let’s get back before Twelve starts snogging your wife,” snickered Hal.  “By the way, isn’t he really, like, Thirteen?  But he’s counting himself as the twelfth?”

“Thirteen Doctors?  Now I’m really confused,” said Jack.  

“Yea, he is, actually,” he said, turning to Jack.  “He’s obviously still not counting the incarnation from the Time War. There was the life during the Great Time War that we never counted, between our eighth and ninth lives.  If you count him as the ninth, then you met us first in our tenth body.”

“Why doesn’t he count as a Doctor?” asked Jack.

The Doctor hesitated, swallowing hard.

“He was the one who destroyed Gallifrey,” Hal answered for him.

Nodding, a haunted look on his face, the Doctor continued.  “So, I formed from the hand of what was properly his eleventh body. The eleventh should have been twelfth. Twelve should have been the thirteenth and the last of the cycle.  But then there was a partial regeneration with the excess energy going to the hand.  You were there for that, Jack.  That partial regeneration still counted against the cycle.  Unfortunately, the hand didn’t have enough regenerative energy to spare after my creation, so I’m stuck.”

“Aren’t you happy I kept your old hand around?” asked Jack, a devious twinkle in his bright blue orbs.

“I still shudder at the thought of what it might have gone through, but yes, I’m happy,” the Doctor replied reluctantly.

“It was handy,” said Jack with a big grin.

“Alright, that’s quite enough!” pouted the Doctor.  

Hal stood up and shook her head.  “You knew that was coming,” she said.  

_We need to talk_ , she said in a telepathic aside to the Doctor.

_Eh?  About what?  He’s not snogging Rose, is he??_

_There is a reason he said the Time War didn’t end the way you remember it,_ she replied, not answering his last question.

_So, we didn’t destroy Gallifrey? Time has been rewritten?_

_Just so,_ answered Hal.  _Aren’t you the clever boy.  But we’ll talk later._

_But aren’t you going back with him, Hal?_ There was a forlorn tone to his inner voice that tugged at Hal’s heart.  She sighed.

_I’ve not made up my mind,_ she informed him gently.

They descended down the hill, skipping around outcrops of rock and ant hills along the way.

“Did you see anything else rattling about his head, like a message from Pete’s World, or something about a child in distress, Hal?” asked the Doctor.

“Ah, so he told you about that?  I did see it, because he thinks quite a bit about it.  But it’s a mystery to him.”

“Who could it possibly be?” asked the Doctor.

“Well,” said Hal with a smile, “Who else do we know from this world who appears to be in communication with the TARDIS?  Remember our little Trans-Void Interdimensional hybrid?”

“Tony?!?”

“Who else could it be, considering he pretty much described the TARDIS without ever seeing her,” replied Hal.  “He called her the ‘singing lady’ and said you called her ‘old girl’, remember?”

“Blimey.  How did I forget that?” he murmured, tugging at his hair in deep thought.  “Oh, that’s right!  He described a grey-haired Doctor, but I wanted to believe that was the first Doctor.  Got pretty old that time, but that’s because I wasn’t running around getting shot by Daleks and such.  Or my third life.  Had a great head of grey hair then.”

“I caught an image of Twelve from Tony, but I was confused by the dark-haired lady,” shrugged Hal.

“You knew who he was when you saw him on the trail?” asked the Doctor, wide-eyed.

“Yup.”

“But you walloped him anyway?”

“I didn’t mean to give him a concussion, if that’s what you mean,” sighed Hal.  “But he was being an arrogant arse, and he deserved it after what he put you two through.”

“Eh, ok… fair point,” agreed the Doctor.  “Just don’t concuss your designated driver again, considering he’s rubbish at piloting the TARDIS under the best circumstances.”

“That reminds me,” said Hal with a glint of pure mischief in her eyes.  “You know how to pilot the TARDIS, and I’d bet she’d let you in.  We could… oh, I don’t know… take her for a little joyride?”

“A joyride?” frowned the Doctor, scandalised at the thought.

“Sweet!” whooped Jack with a high-pitched giggle.

“Oh, no.  No, no, no, no, no,” the Doctor groaned.  “Have you _met_ this Doctor?!?  I mean, look at those eyebrows, for Rassilon’s sake!  There’s _no way_ I would try that.”

“Bah,” grinned Hal.  “You’re getting soft stuck here on Pete’s World.”

They had reached the summit of the plateau just as Rose and Twelve emerged from the shelter tent.  Even at that distance, they could make out the prominent eyebrows of the formidable Time Lord.

“Just wait until you’ve had your turn with him, Hal,” smiled the Doctor.  “Let’s see if you’ll have enough nerve to steal his TARDIS.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” said Jack conspiratorially.  “I know my way around the TARDIS from my previous travels with the Doctor.”

“Fancy another trip through a black hole without a ship, Jack?” winked the Doctor.

“Ah, just in time,” Twelve greeted them as they approached the tent.  “It’s getting late, and I must really be on my way soon.”

“What’s the matter?  Scared of the dark?” said Hal cheekily.

“Yes, well there _are_ dangerous creatures in this area,” said Twelve, giving Hal a dark look.

“Don’t worry, we still have three hours before sundown,” said Rose.  “And Hal can carry you back,” she added, giving the shifter a hard stare.

“Uh… what?” asked Hal weakly.

“Dragon,” whispered Jack with a crooked grin.

“Orca,” chuckled the Doctor, noting Hal’s long face.  Hal rolled her eyes at the Doctor, but bit her tongue.

“Oooooh, _unicorn!_ ” giggled the Doctor, overly pleased with his cleverness.  

Twelve stared at them in turn, brows knitted in puzzlement.  “Unicorn?” he asked tentatively.  “You want me to ride you back to the TARDIS?”

“No, I certainly do _not,_ ” said Hal in a clipped voice.  One glance at Rose’s frown, however, changed her mind.  She sighed.

“Ok, but I hope you’ve learned to ride better than _that_ one,” she said, gesturing toward her brother.

“I can ride,” said Twelve stiffly.  “But first, I need to talk to you and Captain Harkness.  Walk with me, Dragon Lady.”

Without waiting for acknowledgement, the tall, thin Time Lord strode away from the tent in an easterly direction toward a small clearing between tall junipers.  Hal bristled, but followed him after a nod from Rose.

They walked silently, crossing several arroyos and rock outcroppings until they were out of sight of the tent and well outside of hearing.  His stride was long, and suddenly Hal became keenly aware of how tall the Time Lord was in comparison.  He stood almost a foot taller than Hal, and she found herself having to make an unbecoming skip occasionally just to keep up with him.  Fully alert now, he gave off an eerie aura of power that, along with his stony silence, unnerved her a bit.

They reached a small sandy clearing near a copse of junipers.  It overlooked the prairie, allowing them a view of the Knob on the other side.  Twelve selected an elevated spot under the trees and sat on the bed of brown needles at their base.  They were shaded from the still intense light from the sun hovering lower in the west.  A cool breeze caused Hal to shiver slightly, although she wasn’t really cold.  She sat slightly in front of Twelve, sensing that he was ready to start the conversation.  

“So,” he began.  “Have you decided yet?”

“No.  Does it really matter whether I’ve decided yet?” she asked flatly.  “You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to take me back.”

“Ah, yes,” he responded, picking up a twig to start doodling in the sand.  “Always on the defence, all that rage and bluster, just to hide the fear and vulnerability under the surface.”

“You know nothing about me,” said Hal stubbornly.

“I know the Sontarans did a number on you,” he said quietly, gazing out across the prairie.

“Damn it!” spat Hal.  “I’m going to kill....”  She stopped as Twelve held up his hand to halt her.

“It wasn’t the Doctor who told me, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said softly.

“Then how?”

The Time Lord gave her a mildly amused look, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  “Did you think I didn’t _know_ you were rummaging about in my head while in the tent?” he asked, his Scottish accent growing more apparent.

“But…,” stammered Hal, stunned that he’d known all along that he was being probed.  She had grown complacent in her mental skills, she thought.

“A door, once opened, can be stepped through in either direction,” he stated, “or so someone told me once when I was equally careless.”

“Oh.”  

Hal could feel her face burning, although she knew it wasn’t from the heat of the sun.  She had underestimated this Doctor, and she stared at the ground in front of him before getting up the nerve to speak again.

“So you understand my dilemma,” she said finally.

“Better than you might think,” he replied.  “I know you feel incomplete without your family.  But you’ve complicated things quite a bit by forming a bond in this universe.”

“I know,” she nodded.  “But he was so… alone.  So terribly alone.  And afraid.”

“But you were going to kill him,” said Twelve, giving her a very pointed look.   

“Yes,” she admitted in a low voice.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I saw who he really was,” she said apologetically.  “I saw what he’d done, how he’d saved so many of us.  I saw the world as he sees it, and how beautiful it could be.  I guess, in a way, he got into _my_ head.”

“That was me, too, you know,” said Twelve, cocking his head and bending slightly to look into Hal’s face.  She met his eyes.  “If you’ve seen him, you’ve seen me as I was hundreds of years ago.”

“I know that, really,” said Hal, looking more deeply into Twelve’s blue eyes.  “But I don’t feel it, and I don’t know why.”

The Time Lord leaned back, looking into the distance again.  “For one, you’re not bonded to me.  And a lot has happened since he and I diverged, Hal.  We all change a bit as we live, but we’re still basically the same people deep down inside.  I’m still him, you know.  But it’s like you at twenty-eight compared to you today.  Would you say you are the same now as you were then?”

“Yes… and no.”

“Exactly!” he said, looking back to Hal with a fervent look.  “We are like psychic twins, but like biological twins, we continue to diverge as life deals us different hands.  But we will always be basically the same underneath the surface.  But he is so, so fortunate.  He has Rose.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry.  I know how you feel about her.”

“But that’s not all.  He has you.  And he is very, very fortunate to have someone of such faith and devotion.  Those are very rare qualities,” said Twelve sincerely.

“But I have to choose.”

“For now,” said Twelve in a sympathetic tone.

“You would give me that choice, then?” 

“Yes, Hal.  I will,” said the Time Lord.  “I have studied your timeline, and you do have several choices ahead of you.  Once you have made those critical choices, they will be fixed and set certain events into motion.”

“Doctor… what happens if I choose to go back?  Will they be ok?  You said there were consequences to both worlds.”

Twelve closed his eyes, his face smoothing out to become a neutral mask as he turned his sight inward.

“There will be severe consequences for this world,” he intoned.  “There is danger approaching, and the people of this planet will suffer tremendously.  The TARDIS they are growing requires someone with extraordinary navigation skills to teach her what she needs to know, so there will be delays.  Delays that will allow more suffering, more devastation.  This planet will not be protected for a very long time… decades.”

“And for Prime?”

“The damage is not quite as severe in the short-term, but it will alter events drastically in the long-term.  When the Time Lords existed in each dimension, travel between the dimensions was easier.  Without the existence of Time Lords in this universe, travel will never be without risk of destruction to both.  Without your help, this universe may never see the return of Time Lords, so the two universes will be forever sealed from each other.”  Twelve hesitated as if he was unsure of continuing.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” asked Hal, a little afraid of what the lanky Time Lord held back.

Twelve sighed, giving Hal a saddened look.

“There is a great personal price if you go back now,” he said.  “If you go back right now, you will be presented with a choice that will have ramifications for the royal family to which you belong.  If you choose poorly, your family line will die out in six generations and an entire galaxy will go unprotected.”

“What?” whispered Hal, almost stunned into silence.

“You are the heir apparent, are you not?”

“Yes, but my sister will carry on the line,” said Hal in desperation.

“Well, yes.  For six generations.”

“This is about Daryl, isn’t it?”

“That’s your robot boyfriend, right?” asked Twelve, brows raised.

“Android,” corrected Hal.

Twelve rolled his eyes.  “Same thing.  Had an android boyfriend once.  Dreadfully boring and equally persistent, aren’t they?  Don’t tell Rose,” he added with a tap to his nose.

“So, I’m supposed to marry Daryl, or not marry Daryl?” asked Hal, frowning.

“Oh, that would be telling,” said the Time Lord with a smile.  “I’ve already told you far more than I should, but you know me.  I’m such the meddler in other people’s affairs.  That’s why I got grounded to Earth once.”

“Then why tell me all of this?” asked Hal.

“Well,” said Twelve, clapping his hands against his sharp knees, “let’s just say that I have a vested interest in my family here.  That family includes you, does it not?”

Hal stared at the Time Lord for several beats, drawing her knees up to her chest and clasping them tightly in her arms.  She chewed at her lip before answering slowly.

“If I stay here,” she started, “and if we’re successful in getting back to Prime in the new TARDIS, could we go back into Time to when I left?”

“It’s a TARDIS.  Travels in Space _and_ Time. Of course you can, if you find the right portal and learn how to pilot her properly.”

“I can fly anything,” Hal said, giving the older Doctor a confident glare.

“Well, I think a co-pilot position is open, if you’re willing to take it.”

“But what about Jack Harkness?” she asked, suddenly remembering the other misplaced member of their group.

“What about him?” asked Twelve, shooting Hal a cagey glance.

“Does he need to go back?”

“Well, I can’t read a timeline on him,” answered Twelve.  “He’s a fact, a fixed point in time.  I can’t look at him too closely without getting sick.  I’m sure your brother has the same problem.”

“He does.  So does that mean Jack has a choice, as well?”

“I’m of the opinion that he doesn’t belong here, really,” said Twelve, looking thoughtful.  “But I can’t say for sure.  Does that change things for you?”

“No, no,” said Hal, shaking her head rapidly.  “Just wondering.”

“I see,” said Twelve knowingly.

“No, really,” insisted Hal.  “It makes no difference to me if Jack goes.  I’ll… I’ll stay.  If I can get back to my family about the same time as I left, then it makes little difference to them if I stay or go now.”

“Good,” said Twelve, a look of relief spreading across his features.  “I have questions, though, about something else.  You seem to have an inkling of who this child is who sent a message through the TARDIS onto psychic paper.”

“Yea,” nodded Hal.  “I think he’s Tony, Rose’s little brother.  He described you in both your last life and this one, and he also described the TARDIS without ever seeing it.”

“Jackie Tyler’s son?  The one that was here when I last left Pete’s World?  I never actually met him.”

“Yes, that’s the one.  He said he was told things by a ‘singing lady’ who showed him visions of you.  He described her as having dark-brown hair and eyes.  I briefly saw that same face when I… uhm….”

“Riffled through my brain?” asked Twelve with a sardonic smile.  “Yes, you would have.  It’s a long story, but he was probably describing a woman named Idris, who became the host for the TARDIS during one of my travels.

“Then it has to be Tony,” said Hal.  “But why?  Why would he send for you?”

“I suppose we need to ask him,” said Twelve with a shrug.  “Although, I’d prefer to avoid running into Jackie.  She’s as fierce as a mother bear, and I’d prefer not to be interrogating her cub in her presence.”

“Wise, very wise,” agreed Hal.

“But first, I need to have a conversation with the Captain.  Clearly, it is not going to be a _pleasant_ discourse, as you probably know.”

“Probably not,” said Hal with a comical eye-roll.  “Shall we go?”

Standing up, they turned back to head for camp.  This time they chatted amiably along the way, much to Hal’s surprise.  She was starting to see the Doctor behind the Doctor, and realised that he wasn’t all that bad once you got past the eyebrows.

“Can I take the TARDIS for a spin?” she ventured.

“No!”

 


	52. Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack demands an explanation for the Doctor's absence when the 456 appeared. And Twelve gets the ride of his life.

 

There was a palpable tension in the tent, making it feel much smaller than its generous dimensions.  The Doctor from Prime paced within it like a caged tiger, unwilling to sit and shift the balance of power to his former travel companion, Jack Harkness, who stood stock still with a stony glare.  His meta-twin and Hal sat quietly in a corner, Kaster at their feet, as Rose stood holding Jack’s hand.  

“But Jack,” said Rose in a conciliatory tone, “didn’t ya say ya needed to get back to your team?”

“We have a plan, Rose,” Jack answered stiffly.  “You’ll have a TARDIS in a few years.  We can travel back in Time.  They may not even miss me if we do it correctly.”

“There are an awful lot of ‘ifs’ involved,” said Twelve, stroking at his chin in thought.  He glanced back at Harkness, concerned at his tight-jawed, unblinking stare.  Gone was the besotted smile that he was used to seeing on the classically-chiselled features.  His clear bright blue eyes, the colour of the Arizona zenith, held none of the mirth that was usually present amongst friends.  In its place was the look of a well-trained, seasoned Time Agent facing down an enemy.

A twinge of pain hit Twelve’s hearts, as much as he tried to deny it.  In their many travels, he had come to regard Jack as a friend.  Rose’s love for him hadn’t stopped him from leaving him behind on several occasions, but like a bad penny, Jack had a propensity for tracking him back down again and again.  Eventually, Jack proved his worth in the heat of a battle, and he’d gradually learned to deal with the havoc the immortal fixed point played on his senses.  They’d parted amicably, friends and allies.

But then came the 456, and everything changed.  While he had not seen Jack since before the 456 arrived, he was certain that things would not be the same between them.

“I’d just as soon _walk_ back to Prime than go with you,” said Jack, extinguishing any doubts the older Time Lord may have had.

As ludicrous as that statement was, even Twelve recognised the sentiment behind them and acknowledged it with a sigh.

“I understand why you might feel that way, Jack,” said Twelve quietly.  “But I’m not sure you belong here.”

“Where the hell were you, Doctor?” spat Jack, unable to hold his pent-up anger back any longer.  “Where the hell were you when the 456 came to Earth?”

Not exactly caught off-guard, Twelve hesitated for a second.  “Wouldn’t you rather do this in private?” he asked, shifting his eyes to glance at the others.

Jack shook his head vehemently.  “These are my _friends_ , Doctor.  Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of them.”  His emphasis on the word _friends_ was not lost on the Time Lord.

“But…” he sputtered.  He was aware that Hal knew of the event and what Jack had done, as it was on the surface of her thoughts, but he had no desire to disillusion Rose’s feelings about the ex-Time Agent.  She loved him as a brother, and he would not deny her that.

“Spit it out,” snapped Jack.  “Why didn’t you come?  Why did you leave us to deal with them alone?  And why the hell are you wearing John Frobisher’s face???”

Continuing to pace, Twelve chewed absently at his cuticles, avoiding looking directly at Jack.

“First of all,” the Time Lord said finally, “I wear this face to remind myself that my job is to save people at almost any cost.”

“Ha,” scoffed Jack.

“Also, that that cost will inevitably have to be paid.  Time must reassert itself at some point.”

“So, you’re falling back on that _fixed point in Time_ bullshit, aren’t you?” said Jack angrily.  “John Frobisher threw us all under the 456 bus, Doctor.  How does he remind you to save anyone?”

“I think I understand now,” said the younger Doctor at the table.  “This Frobisher… he looked exactly like Caecilius?   Spacial genetic multiplicity again, like with Gwenyth and Gwen Cooper?”

“A bit more than that,” answered Twelve, a hint of sadness on his face.  “John Frobisher was the last of his line in direct descent from Caecilius.  In saving Caecilius and his family, I only delayed the inevitable.  Time reasserted itself generations later because Caecilius and his family should have died in Pompeii.  Frobisher made all the wrong choices, but it would always have happened one way or another.  He and his family had to die, and he sealed their fate by choosing to follow orders rather than fight.”

Jack shook his head again and stepped closer to Twelve, his fist clenched.  “Are you trying to tell me that everything that happened, everyone that died, everything that I had to do to save the Earth, was because _Frobisher_ had to die?  You left the Earth defenceless because of one man and his family? _Ianto_ died in my arms, Doctor!  I sacrificed my own _grandson_ to stop the 456, and it’s _all your fault!!”_

Twelve turned to face Jack squarely, looking him directly in the eye after looking away during Jack’s tirade.  He didn’t appear angry, but suddenly saddened and older.

“I’m truly sorry, but no, Jack.  That was partially on you,” he said in a hushed voice.  Jack rapidly deflated, a look of doubt sweeping over his face.

“In 1965, when you handed over twelve Scottish children to the 456, you set events into motion that lead to the return of the 456 in 2009,” the older Doctor said quietly.  He watched as tears welled up into the eyes of the ex-Time Agent, but his expression didn’t change.  Jack’s chin tilted up slightly as he swallowed hard.

“It was that, or twenty-five million people would die from influenza,” he choked out.  “It was in return for the anti-virus we needed to stop the Indonesian flu.”

“Yes,” said Twelve simply.

“What was I supposed to do?  Let millions of people die, or twelve forgotten children?  What’s the _right_ answer, eh?”

“Welcome to my world, Captain,” said Twelve.  “Make an impossible decision in an impossible situation.  So much for being a hero.”

“But if you’d come…”

“If I’d come, I would have made matters much worse,” said Twelve.  “Perhaps not for you, but for everyone else.  There were so many fixed points in Time, so many decisions that Earth needed to make for itself.  It’s time you lot grew up.  Now an entire planet knows what your governments did in response to an extra-terrestrial threat.  The threat wasn’t just the 456, you know.” 

Jack crossed over to an empty chair and sat heavily.  “I was part of the problem.  I was part of the final solution, and I can’t reconcile those two things.  Frobisher called me a ‘good man’ and from him it sounded like a curse.”

“Perhaps it was,” nodded Twelve.  “Do you think you’re a good man?”

Jack shook his head slowly, the fire completely out of him now.  “Not at all,” he said.  Rose stood behind him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, then perhaps you’ve learned something,” said Twelve sagely.  “And perhaps, just perhaps, you are the right man to help protect this planet from what is to come.  But more likely, I’m probably making another wretched mistake.”

“What’s coming?” asked the younger Doctor, alarmed.

“Oh, I’ve no idea,” said Twelve.  “But you’re the Doctor.  You’ll think of something.”

“Awww, well that’s very reassuring,” the Doctor said snidely, rolling his eyes.  “Can you at least give me a hint as to _when_ , seeing my wife is pregnant with our first child?”

“No,” Twelve answered shortly.  “But it’s not because I’m keeping it close to my chest, but because I don’t know for sure.  It could be some years away.  Probably.”

“I’ll stay,” said Jack suddenly.  Rose’s face broke into a grin, in spite of the grim conversation. 

“You ok with that?” he asked Hal, who had a perfectly neutral expression and was uncharacteristically pensive.

“Yea, fine,” she answered flatly.  “Still not sleeping in a tent with you,” she added with a little more heart.

“Now, about that little ride to the TARDIS,” said Twelve hopefully.  “I can bring it back here to camp to pick you up for our little jaunt to London.”

“Where are we goin’?” asked Rose, a little surprised.

“Oh, forgot to mention it, but he’d like to visit with Tony for a second,” said Hal.

“Tony?  Oh, no… Mum would have a load of kittens.”

“Hang on,” said the Doctor, turning to his wife to place his fingertips along her temples.  “Quicker this way,” he murmured.

_“Ooooh,”_ exclaimed Rose.  “Now I get it!  Nice plan, but ya better hope she doesn’t wake up an’ find the TARDIS in Tony’s bedroom, though.”

“So, how does this work?” asked Twelve, rubbing his hands gleefully at the thought of riding unicorn-back.  

Groaning, Hal stood up and sighed.  “Give me a mo’,” she grumbled.

“She’s gettin’ to sound more like you, Doctor,” Rose said with a nudge to his shoulder after Hal left the tent.

“She’s been pretty good about staying out of my head without permission lately, so it can’t be that,” he mused.  

Twelve rolled his eyes, but decided to keep his own counsel.  He wasn’t sure exactly how much information Hal had extracted from him, but he wasn’t about to admit his shields were almost transparent to the empathic shifter.  Although aware of her presence, there was no way he could have prevented her entrance into his mind, much to his chagrin.  He hoped his meta-twin’s aversion to mental violation would eventually rub off on her.  He had his doubts.  He definitely looked forward to getting some of his dignity back by riding the reluctant Hal to the TARDIS.

A few minutes later, a large shadow appeared in front of the tent.  Part of the shadow had a rather wickedly sharp protuberance on its head.  

_Time to go,_ came Hal’s voice, projected into Twelve’s head.  It did sound like her inside his head, he noted, but with a telepathic power behind it that surprised him.  Stepping through the flaps of the tent, Twelve caught site of the brilliant white unicorn standing a few feet away and quickly back stepped, right into his twin.

“Ow,” whinged the younger Doctor.  “You just trampled all over my foot.  What’s the matter?  Never seen a unicorn before?”  He chuckled inwardly, aware that it was highly unlikely his twin had met such a mystical creature in his travels, older as he might be.

Eyes rounded owlishly, Twelve tried to compose himself.

“She’s a lot bigger than I expected,” he said shakily.

“Oh go on,” said his meta-twin with a wave.  “Barely bigger than a pony.  All of, oh, fourteen hands?”

_Hello, right here_ , snorted Hal.  Her unicorn form actually snorted at the same time.  

“Sorry,” blurted Twelve to the unicorn.  “Is there a saddle?”

_You’re kidding me, right?_ Hal said, shaking her head ominously.  The iridescent blue-grey spiralled horn flashed dangerously in the fading sunlight.

“Blimey,” muttered her brother.  “Is your horn bigger than I remember it?  I mean, it looks at least a _foot_ longer.”  He had to admit he secretly enjoyed the rise of escalating terror in the older Time Lord’s eyes.  He was serious about Hal’s horn, however.  It was at least four feet long, and no doubt the increased length was for her rider’s benefit.  Or rather, detriment.

“Yes, yes, no problem,” said Twelve, although he didn’t sound as if it was of no concern.  “I’ve ridden bareback before,” he said, as if to convince himself more than the others.

The Doctor crouched down slightly, offering his entwined hands to give the older Time Lord a boost.  With a scramble of his long, slim legs, Twelve manage to wriggle into position behind Hal’s withers.

“See ya in a bit,” said Rose, giving them both a tongue-tipped smile and a cute fluttery finger wave.

Hal whirled, almost unseating the Time Lord in the process.  He clutched at her mane in sheer desperation.  She went into a full gallop within two strides, leaning at a 30 degree angle as she rounded a tree.

_Don’t pull the mane,_ she warned him.

“Sorry, sorry,” panted Twelve, trying to grasp with his knees and loosen his death-grip on the flowing white mane in front of him.  Concentrating on moving with Hal’s rhythm, he was about to regain his confidence when he felt Hal’s muscles bunch up as they reached a wide arroyo.

“Oh, no,” he groaned, just as Hal launched herself nimbly over the stream.  He only barely managed to stay seated by throwing his arms around either side of her neck as she landed.  He almost whooped with joy as he sat up, but then he saw the hill in front of them.

_Short cut,_ said Hal, a certain smugness in her telepathic voice.  

She bolted up the hill at full speed, sending scree flying in her wake, then slid partially down the other side almost on her haunches.  Breathless, the Time Lord found himself halfway down her back.  Using her momentum as she surged forward, he scooted back into position behind her withers again.

He didn’t think he could ever have been happier to see the hill where he had parked the TARDIS, gulping as Hal careened down another hill.  At the top of the hill he slid off Hal’s back, his legs feeling like warmed jelly.  Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he pulled out his sonic and tried to steady his trembling hands, finally finding the right button to sync the Time ship back into the present by one second.

Shimmering back into view, his big beautiful TARDIS reappeared in front of them.  He would have kissed the lovely blue wood if Hal hadn’t stood there.  He pushed the door open and sighed in relief.

“You’ll never believe what I’ve been through these past few hours,” he groaned to the ship, like a husband returning from a difficult day at work.  She thrummed to him soothingly in reply, blue lights brightening and roundels flashing.  She’d missed him, of course, but she had kept tabs on him the entire time.  

_Uhm_ _, Doctor?_ said Hal from the door _._ He turned to find a fine unicorn head thrust through the door.

“Oh, yes.  So sorry,” he said, rushing back to open the other door.  “Don’t have too many guests who can’t fit through a single door.  I suppose you could have shifted back to your humanoid form to fit.”

_Naked?  I don’t think so.  Don’t know you that well._

“Ah, fair point,” he muttered as Hal’s hooves clattered across the floor of the entrance way.  She gracefully stepped down two steps onto the console floor with a surefootedness unlike any equine creature he’s ever seen.  She didn’t pause at the vents through the floor nearest the Time Rotor, although she scanned the upper and lower tiers of the room with curiosity.

“Well,” said Twelve with a wry smile, “what do you think?”

_Doesn’t look anything like his TARDIS,_ she remarked.  _Changed the desktop theme, then?_

Twelve’s long face fell.  “Aww, spoilers.  That’s no fun,” he said with a sour look.  “You’re supposed to gape in awe at the spectacle of a full-grown TARDIS interior, and then exclaim how it’s bigger on the inside.”

_Sorry to disappoint you,_ said Hal.  _Will it help if I tell you that your riding has improved… a bit. And I like the new desktop theme better._

“Might help,” he answered, slightly appeased.  “I’m still looking for more of the round things.  Not sure where I put them.”

_Why not ask the TARDIS?_

“Ah, hadn’t thought of that,” he said, pursing his lips and wondering _why_ it hadn’t occurred to him to ask.

_Love the blues and the red together,_ Hal said with a swish of her long tail.  _Very vibrant and passionate.  It fits you, I think._

“So, what do you plan to do with yourself once you’re back in Prime, Hal?” he asked casually, punching buttons and flipping switches on the console.  Many more buttons and switches than seemed appropriate for a simple jaunt of a few miles to camp.  “Marrying your android boyfriend?  Not having babies, that’s for sure.  Living the domestic life in one place, occasionally showing up in a tiara for boring state parties and weddings?  Playing auntie to your nieces and nephews?”

_I do have responsibilities to the crown,_ she replied sadly.  _My life is not entirely my own._

“I’ve been Lord President of Gallifrey a couple of times.  Didn’t stop me from running away.”  He glanced at Hal from under bushy eyebrows, trying to determine how his queries were being received.  He wasn’t very good at reading equine expressions, so he forged ahead when Hal remained silent.

“As a matter of fact, I think I’m still President,” he said with the faintest of smiles.  “Didn’t stick around long enough to find out if they replaced me.”

_Are you suggesting I run away from my responsibilities?_

“Titles, especially hereditary titles, usually are accompanied by stuffy people who insist you stand quietly on a pedestal of their making,” he said, flipping more switches.  “Very, very boring,” he insisted.  “You don’t strike me as someone who suffers fools gladly, and that’s what heads of states are, mostly.”

_But it’s not just an empire.  It’s my family._

“Understood, but don’t confuse the two.  Responsibilities to family and responsibilities to the state are two vastly different things,” explained Twelve.  “Do you wish to do as you’re told, eventually being saddled with the crown and smothered with empirical protocol?  Or do you want to be free… free to roam all of Time and Space and to love whomever you wish?  Why would you ever agree to an arranged marriage with a machine?”

_I’ve been rather rubbish at making the right decisions on my own,_ said Hal slowly and carefully.  

“Ah, well… I’ll not fault you for that, seeing I’ve heard the same of me.”

_You’re really lobbying very hard for me to stay here,_ noted Hal.  _But I’ve already agreed to stay until the baby TARDIS is flight-worthy.  Why?_

“Why, indeed,” said Twelve with a crafty twinkle in his eye.

_Oh,_ uttered Hal, suddenly catching a glimpse of the Time Lord’s thoughts.  _You two are always trying to have your cake and eat it, too._

“Is there a problem with that?” asked Twelve, giving her a flash of his eyebrows.  “Oh, Halley Forbin, always think that you can have it both ways.  You may be pleasantly surprised.”

_I’m not sure if we’re up to this task,_ she said with a telepathic sigh.  _There is so much to do, and so little time._

“You’re growing a TARDIS, Hal.  Let me show you what a magnificent sentient creature a mature TARDIS can be!  I can tow an entire planet with her, and actually, I have!”

_It’s getting dark, and they’ll start worrying,_ said Hal, dropping her head.

“Oh, in case I forgot to mention… _IT’S A TARDIS!!!”_ he yelled for emphasis.  “It travels in _Time!_ We can wander around in here for a year, and be back five minutes after we left.”

_Oooh_ _, that’s right!_ Hal exclaimed as the realisation hit her.  

_“Finally!”_ said Twelve, slapping his palm against his forehead.  “Try to keep up with me mentally and physically, eh?  And don’t wander off.  It could take years to find you if you get lost.”

_Can’t I just ask the TARDIS for directions?  She’s laughing at you right now, so I know I can communicate with her.  By the way, she says the round things are in…_

“Oh, do shut up,” groaned Twelve, as he led Hal down toward the interior.  “And watch the horn.  Some of the ceilings are low.”

_What horn?_

Twelve turned around in confusion, expecting to see a rather large unicorn directly behind him.  “Where’d you go?” he asked.

_Look down,_ she directed.

Turning about and looking down toward his feet, he found a wolf at his side calmly gazing up at him with brilliant sapphire blue eyes.

“You’re a wolf,” stated rather obviously.

_Yea… snap,_ she said cheekily.

“You could have easily come through the front door as a wolf,” he said, frowning.  “Why’d you make me feel like a complete idiot by calling me out on not opening the other door?!?”

_Just keeping you real,_ she said with a wolfish laugh.  _Now, on with the tour.  I hear you have a huge swimming pool._

“Don’t even think about getting all that fur in my pool,” he grumbled.


	53. If Children Had Wings

 

Rose jumped from her seat at the sound of an eerie echo reverberating through the tent.  It was a sound she had pined to hear for so many months, and now she’d heard it twice in a day.  Running outside so quickly that she almost ripped the door flap, she spun in every direction to try to locate the source of that familiar alien groan.  Only a few feet away, in the clearing directly ahead, she could make out the ghostly outlines of the TARDIS materialising in pulses.  With a solid thump, its familiar deep blue colour took form.

With only a momentary glance at her husband, Rose sprinted to the blue box, her hands reaching into the opening of her shirt to pull her old TARDIS key from around her neck.  Her hand shook slightly, but it managed to insert the key and turn it.  With a tentative shove, she opened the door and stepped inside.

“Welcome back,” greeted the older Time Lord, standing at the console with hands in pockets.  A smile, or what passed for a smile in his present form, made him seem genuinely pleased that she’d used her key to enter.  

She caught a glimpse of the scarlet red lining of his Crombie coat standing out from the starkness of the bluish-black velvet.  Suddenly, she realised why he had chosen his attire.  It befitted him exactly, this austere exterior hiding the fiery intensity of the man within.  Beside him, the glowing red Time Rotor pulsed in a reiteration of the ardent hearts of the man who lived here.  This was a Time Lord at the pinnacle of development, and a glimpse of the potential that existed within her Doctor.  But only if he were to live as long as Twelve, she thought sadly.

_Eh, I could beat him in an arm-wrestling match,_ quipped her husband behind her.  His voice travelled along their bond, dragging her thoughts back to the here and now.  Glancing up, her eyes darted about as they took in the cavernous console room, blinking with bright primary blues and reds.  Her mouth dropped open at the rotating panels emblazoned with Gallifreyan symbols, rotating synchronously atop the Time Rotor.   

“Whoa, Doc,” said Jack admiringly as he stepped through the open door.  “Nice redecorating.  Looks sort of like the colour scheme from a 19th Century bawdy house.”

Twelve’s smile instantly turned upside down, coordinating with knitted eyebrows that leapt forward as if straining to attack Harkness from across the room.

“I love it!” said Rose quickly.  She actually preferred the more organic feel of coral in her old home, but she appreciated that the old aesthetic hardly fit the stern man standing front and centre.  She felt a warm feeling wash through her as the TARDIS greeted her.

“I don’t like it,” frowned her husband.  “Where’d you find that desktop theme, anyway?  I don’t recognise it at all.  And why did you bring part of the library into the console room?”

“Built it myself,” answered the older Time Lord, shooting Jack and the Doctor a dirty look.  “I prefer a more open design, and I got tired of going into the interior to read or sit in front of the fireplace.  Always managed to miss something when I was in there.”

“So what happened to all of the coral?” asked Rose gently, keen to not appear critical of the older man’s choices.

“Destroyed two regenerations ago,” Twelve said.  “The regeneration cracked most of it, and the rest was destroyed when I crashed immediately after.”

“Ah, that must have been a doozy,” said the Doctor softly.  “Guess that’s why I felt it from here.”

Twelve nodded.  “It was… very difficult, that regeneration.  The last was faster than the blink of an eye after taking a while to reset the cycle.”

“Hang on,” frowned the younger man.  “Where’s Hal?”  He reached out across his sibling bond to brush against her consciousness.

_I’m here,_ came a telepathic voice.  _This is just amazing!_

“She’s inside,” answered Twelve, who hadn’t heard their telepathic exchange.  “I made the mistake of showing her the archives.  She’s been in there for hours.”

“You’ve only been gone for fifteen minutes, by our counting,” said Rose with a frown.  “Thought you were in a hurry.”

Twelve gave a careless wave, as if brushing writing off a chalkboard.  “You’re camping near a small rift, so the TARDIS is charging up for the trip home.  I didn’t want to walk in the dark back to the TARDIS, is all.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” said the Doctor suspiciously.  “Except for why you’re suddenly no longer in a hurry to leave.  Is there a reason for that?”

The older Time Lord pursed his lips in displeasure, fixing the Doctor with a stony stare that would have intimidated almost anyone else.

“I am in a hurry,” he said in a clipped voice.  “Don’t forget that I came here to investigate the message I received.  You lot were, how should I say it, a very… interesting… surprise.”

Turning to tap several keys on the console, Twelve kept glancing at Rose as he rounded the Time Rotor, which only served to infuriate the Doctor more.

“Rose, I could use your help,” said Twelve finally.  “This is a delicate operation.  I don’t know the exact dimensions of your brother’s room, and I don’t want to run into your mother by banging about in there.”

“What can I do?” asked Rose, curious.

Twelve pulled off an access panel on the console, revealing a set of cells filled with what appeared to be a pinkish spongey gel.  “The TARDIS telepathic circuits,” he said, waving Rose closer.  “Place your fingers into the cells, and then think very strongly of where we should land, and when.  Don’t let yourself get distracted, or Jackie will need new furniture and I will need a new face.”

“I can fly the TARDIS with this?” Rose asked, eyes wide.  “How come ya didn’t show me _that_ before?”

“Well,” said Twelve, “it’s an upgrade. Until now, I’d have had to stab your hand with a big cable, and I’m sure you would have delivered one of the famous Tyler slaps.  Even more likely with the first telepathic circuit board she had before we met, since it looked like two big… err… discs.”  

Face suddenly taking on colour, Twelve realised that, in an attempt to demonstrate the shape of the older controls, he had positioned his fingers into a rather suggestive double-handed grasp.  Whipping his hands behind him, he cleared his throat self-consciously and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, hoping Rose hadn’t noticed.  Rose didn’t appear to pay his gaffe any mind, but from the curling lip of her husband, it was obvious that he had.

“Nice,” the Doctor hissed in a low growl.  

Twelve, still clutching his hands behind him, casually sauntered around the console to strategically place it between him and his incensed twin.  While he was no longer quite as overtly jealous in his current regeneration, Twelve knew exactly what simmered beneath the surface of his younger twin.  The warning he had just received was merely the tip of the iceberg.  Wondering fleetingly if the younger man was yet aware of Rose’s stolen kiss, his long, slender fingers involuntarily wandered up to touch his lips.

Stepping up to the console, Rose reluctantly place her fingers on the surface of the jelly-like substance, then quickly snatched back her hands.

“Ugh,” she uttered.  “It’s sort of squidgy.”  She could hear the TARDIS’ mirth in the back of her mind, giving her a tingling effervescent sensation.

“It’s ok,” reassured Twelve.  “She’d never, ever hurt you, Rose.  You’ve been far, far more… intimate with her than this.  You’ve touched the very heart of her, in more ways than one.”

Rose slowly slid her fingers into the recesses within the gel, involuntarily grimacing as it made a squishy sound.

“Now, think of Tony’s room.  Think of the TARDIS landing there in a safe place, and at a time when Jackie will be sound asleep.”  The latter, of course, was more for his benefit than for the purpose of navigation.

Rose knitted her brows in concentration, Twelve watched her with an intense look.  Within seconds, the plasma-like red Time Rotor conduits started to pulse.  Above, scripted panels turned as the TARDIS dematerialised with a groaning sound.  A minute later, they re-materialised and landed with a thumping noise while the Time Rotor spun down.

Rose’s face broke into a wide grin.  “I just flew the TARDIS!” she exclaimed joyfully.

“You’re a natural,” said Twelve with a gentle look.  “Soon you’ll have one of your very own, and I’m sure you’ll get on like a house on fire.  Now, let’s see how well you parallel park.  Jack, take a peek, would you?”

“Me?” asked Harkness, pointing at his chest in surprise.  “Oh, yeah… send the immortal guy out to meet up with Jackie.  Brilliant!”

The younger Doctor waved Jack toward the doors.  “Well, go on, then.  You heard the man.”

“ _Et tu_ , Brute?” muttered Jack, sighing.  He turned to walk up the corridor to the door, but was brushed aside by Rose.

“Men,” she muttered as she slowly opened the door a crack.  It was dark in the room, except for the soft glow of a night-light next to an ornate twin bed.  She blinked, and could gradually make out a small bump in the bed against the opposite wall.  Tiptoeing quietly across the small room, she crouched down next to the lump.  Behind her, Jack, the Doctor and Twelve creeped out of the TARDIS, their eyes shifting about the room for signs of other occupants.  

Twelve straightened and clicked his sonic screwdriver.  Shimmering, the TARDIS disappeared from view as he sent her a second into the future.

“Oi, Tony?” whispered Rose, gently nudging the child nestled deeply under the covers.  The lump stirred, then sat upright, head still covered by a sheet.

“Rose?” came a small voice from beneath the covers.

“Sshhh, yea,” whispered Rose.  “Don’t wake up Mum, ok?”

Struggling to remove the covers, the four year-old finally appeared, blond hair mussed and standing upright.

_“Rooose!”_ he said a bit too loudly, causing the men to scatter about the room like frightened baby quail. Rose clapped a hand over the youngster’s mouth.

“Ssshh,” she repeated, smiling at the antics of her companions.  She could hear them scrambling in the background.  Tony blinked his brownish-hazel eyes as he finally noticed Jack, the Doctor and Twelve cowering along the wall behind Rose’s crouched form.

A huge grin broke out over the youngster’s face.  “Oooh, Uncle Doctor and Uncle Jack are here, too!  I thought you were in ‘merica, or something.”

“We were,” explained Rose quietly.  “An’ we’re goin’ back soon, but we have someone we want ya to meet.”

“That’s the Doctor,” said Tony, pointing with certainty to the Time Lord unsuccessfully hiding behind a chair.

Rose frowned.  “How’d you know that’s the Doctor?” she asked, confused.

“I told’ja before,” insisted Tony.  “The singin’ lady showed me him.  I tol’ her to tell him to help ya.”

Rose twisted slightly to address Twelve.  “What are you doing behind a chair?” she asked with a frown.  She crooked a finger to indicate he should join her at Tony’s bedside.  

Flashing several nervous glances at the closed door, Twelve crab-walked to the child’s bedside to join Rose.

“Hullo,” he said brightly to the tyke, although his face had a pained look to it.  Unlike his previous self, he just didn’t see the point of communicating with most human children.  They seemed far more alien to him than most species he’d met, and were more frequently a damned nuisance.

Without so much as a warning, Tony threw his arms around the Time Lord’s neck in a tight embrace.  Caught off-guard, Twelve grasped the child with his inner elbows, as if unsure what to do with his outstretched hands.  

Rose rolled her eyes in exasperation, noting the confused expression on Twelve’s face as he let himself be throttled by a four year-old.

“Not too good with kids this time around, are ya?” she asked.

“Uh, not very,” admitted Twelve in a reedy voice, his airway constricted by Tony’s exuberant hug.  He was afraid his respiratory bypass would kick in if Tony didn’t let go soon.

“So glad ya come,” said Tony quietly.  He quickly released the Time Lord from his grasp, and sat cross-legged at the edge of his mattress.  

“So, what caused you to send for me, young human?” asked Twelve after clearing his throat.  He gave out a soft grunt from the elbow jab Rose immediately gave him.

_Wow, an’ I thought you were alien,_ Rose shot her husband, who chuckled.

_He’s still basically me, Rose.  He just has less filters this time around.  Still rude and not ginger, he is._

Tony’s light-brown eyes stared intently into the Time Lord’s blues, as if searching for something.

“You’re really, really old,” said Tony boldly.  “Way more old than Uncle Doctor.”

Nodding, Twelve drew a deep breath.  “Yes, I am, Tony.  And I’ve come a very, very long way to see you because you said you needed help.  What is it so important that you sent me a message?  And how?”

Tony frowned in concentration, not sure which question to tackle first.  He had so much to say, and he wasn’t sure where to start now that the older Doctor crouched in front of him.  

“The singin’ lady.  She said you can help,” he said.  

“Help do what?” asked Twelve.  “And who is this singing lady?”

“He’s four, Doctor,” Rose reminded him.  “Ask one question at a time, ‘k?”

Giving a frustrated sigh, Twelve sat down to relieve the strain in his cramped leg muscles.  Cracking his knuckles, he reached up to gently touch the youngster’s temples.

“Think about this singing lady, Tony.  Show me what she looks like.”  Twelve closed his eyes, his face relaxing as he attempted to connect with the young boy.

Clinching his eyes tightly shut and pursing his lips, Tony did as he was asked.  Conjuring up the image of the woman in his mind, he felt her song increase in volume as she welcomed his mental touch.

“She’s here!  I feel her right now!” Tony said joyfully.

Twelve found he was almost distracted by the surprising complexity of the young child’s mind, but to the forefront came a very clear image of an extremely familiar face.  Dark, sunken eyes in a heart-shaped face… a halo of dark, messy hair.  _Hello, Doctor.  So very glad to meet you,_ she said.

Twelve gasped, releasing his fingertips from Tony’s face.  A look of complete wonder fell over his features as he opened his eyes again.

“That is incredible,” he whispered.  “It’s impossible.  It’s… it’s… fantastic!”

“Is it true, then?” asked the younger Doctor.  “Hal believes he’s in contact with the TARDIS.  It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“He is indeed,” replied Twelve.  “But how?  He’s never seen the TARDIS before.  How did he manage a link with her?”

Rubbing his neck uncomfortably, the younger man approached the bed and sat next to Twelve.

“Well, it’s just a theory we have,” he said, feeling a bit silly.  “We think he may be a Trans-Void Multi-versal Hybrid.”

“A _what?_ ” asked Twelve with a frown.  “You just made that up.” 

“Well, yea,” he admitted sheepishly.  “But it fits.  Jackie is from Prime, but Pete… this Pete, anyway… is from here.  What if Tony has the combined energy of both universes?  What if he can see across the Void?  It’s almost as if he has a foot in both universes.  Has there ever been a child born of parents from two different parallel universes?”

Twelve looked thoughtful for a moment.  “I’m not sure,” he answered finally.  “I’ve never heard of it before, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened.  But why link with the TARDIS?”

“Baby Girl,” suggested Rose.

“Baby Girl?”  Twelve looked genuinely perplexed.

“The TARDIS truncheon you gave us,” said the Doctor in answer.  “It’s here, it’s growing, it’s nearby, it’s from your TARDIS and it’s from Prime.  Maybe it’s the conduit.”

“I don’t know,” muttered Twelve, nibbling at a finger in deep thought.  “I suppose that’s a working hypothesis, if nothing else.  I’m actually stumped for a better answer.”

“Gonna red-letter that one on the calendar,” said Rose in a snarky voice.  

The barest hint of a smile crossed the older Time Lord’s face.  His hearts skipped a few beats, reflecting on how much he deeply missed trading banter with his precious pink and yellow girl.  Envy burned in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as a horrible urge rose from the depths of his being.  Oh, if only he could grasp her hand and run full-tilt toward his TARDIS.  How easy it would be to slide that big lever down, to flee this barren universe back across the Howling and to safety, the one person he desired most to be with him at his side.  _Damn_ the consequences.  _Damn_ what was right.  _Damn_ what anyone else wanted.  Just _run_.  It’s what he did best, right?  Didn’t the universes owe him that much?  

With a deep heartsfelt sigh, he sadly pushed the forbidden thoughts back into the Hell they arose from.  He was so alone, yet no longer truly alone.  He’d wrested back some of what he lost, but it seemed his lot to lose that which meant the most to him.  He accepted it, although the bitter pill was so incredibly difficult to swallow with the object of his greatest desire crouched at his side.  Her distinct scent, the heat of her body radiating against his leg, drove him to utter distraction.  He wondered why the Fates were so cruel as to bring him here so close.  To fan the flames of his hopes, only to burn him with a sharp rebuke once again.  He turned back to the child on the bed, suddenly eager to get on with it before his resolve to do the right thing crumbled into interstellar dust.

“Tony, help me because I’m a bit confused,” he said, feeling abased asking a child for advice.  “What am I supposed to do to help?”

Tony frowned at the older man, apparently thinking he was being quite thick.  

“Don’ ya know?” asked Tony.

“Humour me, young Tony,” smiled Twelve.  “I’m rather old, as you can see.”  He pointed to his halo of greying hair.

“Yea, you’re older than Mum!” Tony replied, causing the other three to snigger.  Twelve rolled his eyes, but focused on Tony again.

“So, again… what is it you think I should do, Tony?  Eh?”

Tony pointed toward the younger Doctor.  “Make Uncle Doctor like you.”

Twelve sat ramrod straight, a look of astonishment on his face.  “What?  You want me to do what?” he asked faintly.

“Make ‘im like you, an’ Uncle Jack, an’ Rose.”

An unreadable look passed over the Time Lord’s strong features as his thoughts went into overdrive.  He could see a connection, of sorts, between Jack and himself.  But Rose?  What was the tyke on about?  He looked to the other three, and could see that they were as confused as he was.

“What are ya on about, Tony?” asked Rose.  “How am I like Uncle Jack and the Doctor?”

“You can come back,” Tony said with a frown.  “Ya know, like if somebody kill-ed you, you’d come back.  Like Uncle Jack, too.  Uncle Doctor needs to be like that.”

Twelve shifted to face Rose, squinting at her in puzzlement.  He stared at her intensely, scrutinising her timeline more deeply than ever before.  Frankly, he’d avoided peering into it too far before, not actually wanting to know.  

“Oh,” he said quietly, after a few seconds.  “Is there something you two haven’t told me about Rose?” he asked the younger Doctor.

Looking distressed, the younger twin looked down at Rose and back to Twelve.  “I didn’t know,” he breathed.  “I mean, I knew she had Bad Wolf in her still.  It healed her scars from her travels through the Dimension Cannon.  I’ve touched it during our bonding.”

“But you can’t see her timeline very closely,” nodded Twelve.  “She’s too close to you.”

“Right.  But you can.  You can see…”

“It appears that the Bad Wolf has made her immortal,” said Twelve dismally.  “I’ve not succeeded in removing it completely.”

“No!” Rose gasped, a look of horror passing over her face.  “That’s not right.  It can’t be right!  I can’t… I jus’ can’t!  How can I watch ‘im wither and die, Doctor?  It’s not right!  It’s why you left ‘im with me, so we could grow old together.  I don’t want it!”

“Shsss,” comforted her husband, bending to embrace her around the shoulders.  “It’s ok, my love.  I’ll never have to suffer that loss, and I’m so ok with that.  I’m just sorry that you have to face it alone.”

“No, I’m _not_ ok with that!” said Rose a little louder.  She was in shock and furious.  Her whole world was crumbling around her, and she was not happy about it in the least bit.  She would not accept that her husband would wither into old age and die before her eyes.  It wasn’t fair.

Twelve leaned forward, long arms reaching up to gently clasp Rose’s face in his hands.  There was a tenderness infusing his strong features that seemed incongruous with the man they had come to know.  

“Rose… please don’t fret,” he said gently.  “It all makes sense now.  I can fix this.”

“Then fix it!” ordered Rose, the crack of a command in her voice.  “Fix it now!  I don’ wanna be immortal.  Jus’ make me like him!”

“No, no!” said Tony, shaking his head.  “He needs to fix Uncle Doctor!”  Jumping down to the floor, he retrieved a large toy robot and climbed back onto the bed.  With a dexterity borne of habit, he quickly dismantled the battery hatch in the back of the toy and removed four batteries.  He thrust them at Twelve insistently.

“He needs these, Doctor!”

Twelve nodded knowingly, and ruffled the young lad’s blonde tresses reassuringly.

The creak of the TARDIS door opening ever so slowly made them all jump.  A blonde head popped out, peering about in the dim lighting.  The door hung eerily out of thin air from the cloaked TARDIS, making her seem suspended. She located them next to the bed.

“Hey, Jackie’s waking up,” whispered Hal.  “Get out of there!”

Twelve turned quickly to the little boy on the bed, a broad smile gracing his features.

“Thank you, Tony… my little interdimensional sage,” he told the child sincerely.  “I hope to see you again, when you’ve grown up a bit, eh?  Don’t forget your old Doctor and the singing lady, because we won’t forget you.  Don’t worry… everything will be just fine!”

Tony threw himself at Twelve, locking him into a tight hug.  This time, the older Time Lord returned the hug before standing and straightening his jacket.

“Feets, do your duty!” he quipped, dashing through the TARDIS door and almost bowling Hal over at the entrance.

“See you soon, Tony,” shot Rose to the little boy as they filed away back into the Time Machine.  “Don’ tell Mum, ok?”

The groan of the TARDIS dematerialising was barely fading from the room when Jackie stormed through the bedroom door.

“What the bleedin’ hell is goin’ on here?” demanded Jackie, dressed in a pink robe with faux fur, slippers to match.  Her hair was in plastic rollers, sticking up at all angles.

“You said a bad word, Mum,” pouted Tony.  Nonchalantly placing the batteries back into the robot’s compartment, he pretended nothing extraordinary had happened, even though he thought it had been a grand time visiting with his sister and her friends.

“I thought I heard somethin’,” said Jackie suspiciously.  “What was that noise I heard?  It sounded like… like somethin’ I’ve heard before.”

“Jus’ my robot, Mum” said the little boy with a bewitching smile.  Flipping a switch on the side of the toy, he held it up as it noisily flashed a ray gun at her.

“Go back to sleep, Tony,” groaned Jackie.  “It’s three o’clock in the bleedin’ mornin’ an’ I have a Vitex function to go to tomorrow.”  Tony crawled back under the covers with a smile as his mother closed his door, continuing to fuss all the way down the hallway.


	54. My Immortal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twelve provides each of his mates with a gift, not the least of which goes to his meta-twin.

 

Having escaped sure death by fleeing into the Vortex, the self-proclaimed Twelfth Doctor set the parking brake and gave out a sigh.  His meta-twin watched the older Time Lord as he absent-mindedly stroked the edges of the console.  He seemed quite pensive, as if carefully measuring out his next steps.  That he hadn’t taken them directly back to camp was a deliberate choice, and one that his twin knew was indicative of unfinished business.  

“So, what’s next?” asked the younger Doctor.  

He had an inkling of what would occur next, but he wanted Twelve to articulate it, and he wasn’t about to take his eyes off of him.  He wasn’t quite sure that he trusted Twelve with Rose aboard the TARDIS, in spite of the older Time Lord’s assurances that he wasn’t there for Rose.  The fond looks he had given Rose had set off every alarm in his brain, and the latent psychic link between the two men had flared for a brief second, allowing him a glimpse into what lurked beneath that stony exterior.  He hadn’t liked what he’d seen, as much as he was certain those dangerous feelings were there.  After all, he’d have not a qualm about stealing Rose away from him, were their situations reversed.

He was also extremely unsettled by this new comfortable interchange between Twelve and his sister.  Allowing Hal free rein on the TARDIS was a level of intimacy he was fairly sure was not afforded other visitors.  It wasn’t even something he could see himself ever doing with a new companion.  What had happened during those intervening hours in the Vortex, while they had waited at the campsite?  Had the lonely Time Lord changed his mind, and was actively recruiting Hal as a traveling companion?  While his heart would break, he would let her go if she truly wished to leave him, but he was not about to make it easy for Twelve to lure her away.

Twelve rounded the console, peering from under his eyebrows at his twin.  

“Why don’t we let the ladies go on a little tour while we talk?” he said carefully.  “That includes you, Jack,” he said pointedly, nodding at Harkness.

“Oi,” said Jack with a smile.  “You callin’ me a lady now?”  

“If the shoe fits,” Twelve said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Oooh, we’re goin’ to the wardrobe, ladies!” whooped Jack.  Grabbing Rose’s and Hal’s hands, he jogged down the corridor with both women in tow.  

“Wardrobes are boring,” the two Time Lords could hear echoing back into the console chamber.  Apparently, Hal was not a willing participant in the wardrobe tour, which put a smile on the older man’s face.

“You like her,” said the Doctor flatly, watching Twelve for a reaction.

Twelve gave a tiny nod.  “She’s brilliant, courageous and _feisty._   Can’t say I’ve ever had a Variform as a companion before.  _That_ would be different.”

“You can’t have her,” the Doctor said testily.  He stood stiffly, seemingly gaining a couple of inches in height as he glared.

Twelve gave him a sidelong glance, slowly pivoting on his heels to place a few more steps between them.  He clasped his hands behind his back.

“You do realise she is royalty?  Royalty in hiding in a different galaxy, a different time zone, but like a sleeper cell she will eventually receive a call to duty.”

“Yea, what’s that got to do with anything?” snapped the Doctor.

“She has to go back,” said Twelve.  “She has unfinished business in Prime, and there will be a massive war if she doesn’t.  If the Empire believes she’s been abducted once again, it will tear apart entire galaxies to find her.”

Snarling, the Doctor advanced on the older Time Lord.  “She doesn’t have to go back _now_ , does she?  You know, as well as I do, that we can have her back about the same time she left, and you know our chances of making it across the Void are greater with her help.  You’ve said so only a few hours ago!  You just want her for yourself.  What changed your mind?”

“You misunderstand me,” said Twelve, cocking his head sideways toward his younger twin.  “I have no wish to take her from you, as you seem to think.  But when she returns to Prime, she may well be trapped in a life she will undoubtedly despise.  Would you have her married to an android?  Have her… bored to death with matters of state?”

The younger man cast his eyes to the console platform, shaking his head.  “It’s not my choice, is it?” he said a few seconds later.

“The Galactic Forbin Empire is huge,” continued Twelve.  “You’ve not been to that particular galaxy yet, but I have.  That empire has ushered in an unprecedented level of prosperity and peace, yet it does so at a cost.  Forbin has an enormously powerful armada, one of the largest and most feared in all the known galaxies.  Traditionally, that armada is led into battle by the heir apparent.  You know this, correct?”

“Yup,” said the younger man quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Does that not bother you?” asked Twelve, giving the Doctor a pointed look of puzzlement.  “We both know what that’s like.  We both know what it does to you, what it’s like to be crushed in the cogs of militia.  She’s not a soldier, in spite of her being trained and conditioned by the Sontarans.  Or by the fact that the Forbin Empire she was born into keeps the peace.  It doesn’t matter if the cause is right, does it?” 

Sighing, the Doctor turned his back to hide his face from the older Time Lord.  “Yea, it bothers me,” said in a low voice.  “It bothers me a lot, but I still need to give her a choice.  My hope is that she’ll choose to come back with me.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

He turned back to face the older Time Lord, a stricken look on his face.  “Then it’s her choice, and I’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Then I’m giving her another option,” said Twelve firmly.  “If she chooses to stay behind in Prime, I will offer her a place on the TARDIS, even if only occasionally.  All of Time and Space at her disposal; next stop… _anywhere_.”

He could see that Twelve seemed genuinely excited over the idea of taking on Hal as a companion.  A twinge of sympathy constricted his heart, realising that he had been blessed with an embarrassingly rich plethora of companions now, while his older twin was so desperately alone.  It suddenly occurred to him that there were other possibilities, as well.

“With two TARDISes, we could more easily open up transport between the two universes, couldn’t we?”

“If we’re very, very careful,” nodded Twelve.  “But it won’t be possible to create safe passage through the Void without a bit more Time Lords on this side.  And don’t forget that your TARDIS will be young and untried.  Your first trip across the Void will be perilous, to say the least.  Make sure she has plenty of experience traveling through your own universe before attempting a crossing.”

“Which brings me back to the _what’s_ _next_ phase of our conversation,” said the Doctor.  “How are you going to _fix_ me?  You’re planning to give me regeneration energy, aren’t you?”

“It must be Christmas!” said Twelve with a big grin.

“What will that do to you?” asked the Doctor, a dubious expression on his face.  “And what about me?  I only have one heart, remember?”

“I don’t know,” said Twelve cheerfully, “isn’t that refreshing?  I wouldn’t worry about the one heart bit, because many Time Lords don’t get their second hearts until their first regeneration.”

“But what if you’re left with too little regeneration energy?  What if it isn’t that bottomless cup you seem to think it is?”

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s much of a chance of a drain.  Davros tried, and it didn’t go so well for him,” said Twelve.

_“Davros?!?”_ The Doctor’s eyes widened at the name.

“Yes, a story for another time,” said Twelve, licking his lips and concentrating on his right hand.  A soft golden glow was arising, building into a brilliant light as the yellowish particles advanced up his sleeve.  He stepped closer to the Doctor, rocking his body slightly in an attempt to focus the energy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked the Doctor, staring in fascination at the rising tide of golden particles.

“Just paying it forward,” answered the older Time Lord.  “Your time will come soon to do the same.”

With a slight gasp, Twelve lurched forward and planted his incandescent hand against his meta-twin’s chest.  The particles exploded into action, spreading rapidly across the younger man’s chest.  His back arched, a harsh cry of pain involuntarily tearing from his throat as the energy spread like a web across his entire body.  Both men glowed so brightly that the colours of the surrounding roundels washed out in the blinding light.  Ghostly fingers of golden Artron energy flowed from the Time Rotor as the TARDIS enveloped them protectively, monitoring and directing the regeneration energy to keep her Thieves safe.

Within seconds, the golden glow sank into the Doctor’s skin, disappearing as quickly as it had spread across his body.  The particles around Twelve appeared to rush back to his hand before also dissipating beneath the skin.  With a duel groan, they both slipped to the floor semi-conscious.  Gasping for breath, they lay on the platform for a few minutes.

Twelve came to first, struggling to sit upright.  His hair was a tad more wild than normal, and he was definitely out of breath.  Rolling over onto all fours, he crawled over to the Doctor.

“You ok?” he asked.  The only answer he received was a low groan, so he reached down to open the Doctor’s eyelids and peered closely.  His deep brown irises had flecks of glowing regeneration energy floating in them still, not having quite been absorbed completely.  Twelve smiled and collapsed onto his back with a sigh.  He could hear the sound of footsteps pounding down a corridor towards them.

Rose gasped as she ran up the steps.  She immediately ran to her husband’s side.

“What happened to him?” she demanded.  “I felt somethin’, like he was burnin’ or somethin’, like he was in pain,” she blurted in anxiety.

“I gave him some of my regeneration energy,” said Twelve, slowly pulling himself upright to sit on the floor. 

“Owww,” groaned the Doctor, finally regaining consciousness.  “That _really hurt!_ ”

“Oh, so you’re _complainin_ _’_ now,” growled Twelve in a curmudgeonly, very Scottish voice.  “Wasn’t exactly good for me, either.”

“He’s… he’s able to regenerate now?” asked Rose.  “He looks the same.”  She offered her hand to the Doctor and pulled him into a sitting position.  She placed her hand on his chest, holding her breath.

“Still one heart,” she said, crestfallen.

“Don’t worry.  He’ll have two hearts once he regenerates,” reassured Twelve.  “Or maybe after a jolly good Tyler slap,” he teased.

“Oi, no slapping,” moaned the Doctor.  “I can feel the energy, so I know it took.  How many regenerations do I have now?  A full cycle of twelve?”

“I’m not sure,” answered Twelve, stroking his chin in thought.  “More than twelve, I’m fairly certain.  I suspect you don’t have a limit, much like me.  Rassilon limited most of us to a dozen by convention, but I didn’t attempt to give you a limit.  And I don’t feel as if I’ve lost anything, except for the strength in my legs.”

“Thank you for that,” smiled the Doctor.  Twelve nodded, giving him a warm smile.

Rose stroked her husband’s cheek with a look of wonder on her face.  She smiled, the tiny pink tip of her tongue poking out.  A feeling of relief flooded through her, unravelling that tight knot in the pit of her stomach since she learned she was immortal.  The thought of eventually losing him had filled her with dread and a burning rage that she didn’t know was within her.  Now, they both faced the daunting task of living practically forever, but at least she would have him at her side.  She turned to Twelve, tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said softly, then choked up too much to say another word.

“You’re welcome,” said Twelve gently.  “And now, I have something for the two of you.”

Slowly getting to his feet on wobbly legs, Twelve staggered to the console and pressed a button.  A small recessed compartment opened.  He reached in and retrieved two small objects, which he brought over to Rose.  Reaching down to capture her hand, he deposited two TARDIS blue 6mm bands into her palm.  Engraved on each was Gallifreyan script and a tiny image of the TARDIS.  One band was significantly larger than the other, Rose noted.

“They’re gorgeous,” breathed Rose.  Bobbling the bands in her hand, she observed that they were both rather hefty in weight.

“They’re bio-dampers,” said Twelve.  “Never know when you need to hide your bio-signature.  Just don’t ingest Huon particles.  It won’t hide those, as Donna and I discovered.”

Rose slipped the smaller band onto her wedding finger and nested it next to her engagement ring. Flexing her fingers to check the fit, she got an idea.  “It’s perfect,” she said.  “And it’s very comfortable.  I think we could use these as wedding rings!”

“What?” frowned the Doctor.

“Hold out your hand,” she directed him.  He held out his right hand expectantly, palm up.

“The _other_ hand, numpty,” she laughed.  

“Oh!” he said, softly.  Getting her drift, he held out his left hand, palm down this time.

“With this ring, I thee bio-damp,” Rose said solemnly, a brilliant smile on her face as she slipped the band onto his finger.

With eyes only for the other, neither Rose nor the Doctor saw the intense pain that spread across Twelve’s face.  Turning to the console, he placed both hands against the edge and leaned in.  Letting out a shuddery breath, he forced himself to swallow the bitter loss and open his eyes.

Across the console, a pair of sympathetic sapphire eyes stared back at him.

_Is it really so hard?_ asked Hal, who had returned so silently that none of them had detected her presence yet.

Giving her an almost imperceptible nod, Twelve straightened up.

_But you gave them the rings._

It had been quite a long time since Twelve had practiced telepathic speech, and he was sure he was more than rusty.  Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and reached out to Hal, following the trace of a psychic link from their previous engagements.  He could easily see her like a bright telepathic beacon, but he’d not tried talking to her.  It was harder than many non-telepaths thought.

_Yes,_ he answered simply, noting a twitch of a smile from Hal in reaction.  _I… I want Rose to be happy._

_She is_ , Hal assured him.  _And now, thanks to you, they should be happy for a very, very long time._

_Hal…,_ started Twelve, then hesitated.  Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and stared at it for a second.  He walked around the console to stand in front of Hal, then present the sonic to her with both hands.

_I want you to have this,_ he said with a hopeful look.  Hal’s face broke into a twisted smile that lit up her face.  She so loved gadgets, and she’d contemplated nicking one of her brother’s sonics on more than one occasion.

_You want me to have your sonic screwdriver?  Seriously?_

_The software has been updated since the version of the two that he has,_ Twelve explained _.  It includes the base code of the TARDIS._   _And with this, you would have already found that Time Rotor that’s buried in the hill you are so fond of._

_There’s a Time Rotor in the Knob?_   Hal asked, surprised.  _We’ve been searching all over Creation, and a huge chunk of the battle TARDIS is right in our backyard, so to speak?_

_Doesn’t it always work that way?_ asked Twelve with a wry smile.  _It will give you a huge jumpstart in building the new TARDIS console.  Jack can provide you with the Artron energy you need, but you must find the Eye of Harmony.  It’s not something you can build easily with the technology available to you._

_What if it didn’t land here?_ asked Hal, frowning in concern.

_It’s_ _here, still intact in its containment systems, thank Rassilon.  It fell not too far from the rift near where I originally parked the TARDIS.  It’s the first bit I detected._

_So, you actually trust me with the base code of your TARDIS,_ said Hal, suddenly switching topics and giving the Time Lord a sly look.

_How else would you find me, once you’re back in Prime?_ he asked.  That hopeful look now had a tinge of trepidation. __

_You expect me to go bouncing about the universe looking for you?  I already know that many people have tried and failed.  It’s a big universe, and it’s not like you to let grass grow under your feet._

_You’re brilliant.  You’ll learn how to use the sonic in no time a’tall,_ he said. _Set it to beacon a message that only the TARDIS can decrypt.  I will find you._

Hal sighed. _How about a tiny little tutorial on how to use the sonic, so I don’t bring our new house down around our ears?  Your super-intelligent twin has already tried to burn it down._

_Oh, I suppose…_ said Twelve, a twitch of a smile gracing one corner of his mouth.  He reached up, placing two fingers at Hal’s temple and closing his eyes.

_Got it,_ said Hal after a moment. _Oooh, that’s a lot of settings._

_Hundreds of years of refinement,_ he said proudly _.  Just remember.  It’s a tool, not a weapon.  Promise me that weapons will be a last resort for you, Hal.  Always, always a last resort.  Weapons are for cowards and soldiers.  You are neither._

Hal nodded and looked away briefly.  _Well, I promised my brother that I would try._

_Do, or do not.  There is no try,_ said Twelve with a tease of a smile.

Hal barked a laugh out loud.  _Thanks, Master Yoda.  I promise to only use weapons as a last resort.  Scout’s honour._

“You two are getting awfully chummy,” came Jack Harkness’ voice a few feet away.  He was leaning against the railing of one of the exits nearby.  There was a winsome smile on his handsome face, but they didn’t quite reach his sparkling blue eyes.  They flashed a warning that wasn’t difficult for even Twelve to interpret.

“Ah, Captain,” greeted Twelve, clasping his hands together and taking a step back.  “Just giving last minute instructions.”

Jack’s eyes flickered to the sonic screwdriver in Hal’s hands.  Noting his line of sight, Hal tucked the device into her jeans pocket.

“Gave her your sonic screwdriver, huh?” he said a little acidly.  “Kind of symbolic, don’t you think?”

“Not in the way _you’re_ thinking,” Twelve shot back stiffly.

The Doctor appeared at their side, having heard the last exchange.

“You gave her your sonic?!?” he squeaked.  “Aww, that is _so_ not fair!”

Twelve frowned.  “You have two already.  Why don’t you give one to Rose, then?”

“How’d you know I had two?”

“Do you really think the TARDIS didn’t tell me she gave you sonics?” Twelve countered.

“But they’re not all cool with bluey flashy lights,” whinged the Doctor, a serious pout forming on his lips.

“Well, then be nice to Hal, and maybe she’ll let you use it now and then,” said Twelve with an evil grin.  “And she can also upgrade yours with the latest software upgrade.  You’ll have to reconfigure the buttons, however.”

“You’re like Father Christmas today,” said Rose to Twelve, crossing over to stand next to her husband.  She patted her husband’s arm comfortingly.

“Goes with the hair, I guess,” said Twelve.  He appreciated the sentiment, but an oblique reference to his greying mass of hair was too close for comfort.  He wondered how he’d look if he dyed it… brown, or something.  Oooh, he could finally be _ginger_ , he thought with a little glee.  No… no, that would be stupid, he admonished himself, finally coming to his senses.

“So, what do I get, _Santa_?” asked Jack in a sarcastic voice.

“Ah,” said Twelve, thinking furiously as he rubbed his hands together.  He really hadn’t expected to provide gifts to everyone, but now it seemed he was caught in a _faux pas_ of his own making.

Twelve brightened up a bit, an idea forming in his head.

“Well, luckily for you, I’m fresh out of sacks of coal.  But I do believe I have a later model vortex manipulator in the archives somewhere.  It’s a lot more sensitive than the one you currently have, which is ancient by even Time Agency standards.”

Hal cleared her throat loudly, causing Twelve to look at her sharply.  She gave him a sheepish smile as she reached into her back pocket to extract a device on a wide leather band.

Giving her a look of dismay, Twelve held his hand out.  “Really?” he grumbled in a gravelly voice.

Flushing, Hal handed the vortex manipulator over.  “Sorry,” she mumbled.  “I was gonna ask you about it and forgot.”

“Likely story,” said Twelve, fixing her with a punishing glare.  It passed quickly, however, as he was not above covert acquisitions and lying about it, himself.  He simply preferred that the shoe not be on the other foot.

The younger Doctor burst into a fit of laughter.  “Oh, that is just wizard!  All this time you’ve been busting my chops about nicking the sonics, and here you are nicking stuff out of the archive.  That is just brilliant!”

“That’s it, I’m deadlock sealing the archives from now on,” grumbled Twelve.  He handed the vortex manipulator over to Harkness.  “And you,” he said, waving a crooked finger at Jack, “I will take that device back if you start meddling in Time over in Prime.”

“Yes, sir,” barked Jack with a stiff salute.  Twelve rolled his eyes, but held his tongue.  He had little hope that Jack Harkness would behave himself in _either_ universe.

“So, have I forgotten anyone?” Twelve asked, facing the console and tapping buttons on a large keypad.

Hal looked hopeful, but remained silent.  She remained mortified by getting caught out in outright thievery, but she had uncharacteristically felt compelled to confess her error to the Time Lord.  She certainly hadn’t planned to tell him she’d pocketed the vortex manipulator, but she had a new found respect for him that would not allow her to remain silent.  She marvelled at the changes she had gone through these last few months.  But she would not push her luck by mentioning the one minor party not present in the TARDIS.

“Ah, yes,” said Twelve suddenly.  Reaching deep into his trouser pockets, he rummaged around, trying to locate something by touch in the trans-dimensional caverns.  “Ah, here we go,” he said, face lighting up.  He pulled out a tennis-ball sized orb from his pocket.  A brilliantly florescent blue, it had Gallifreyan script and variously sized spots on it, reminding Hal of starscape.  He tossed the ball to Hal, and it made an appealing tinkling sound as it landed in her hands.

“Canine-like species are not native to Gallifrey, but a few Time Lords imported dogs from Earth a long time ago,” he explained.  “That ball was designed by a Time Lady to keep the interest of her pet for hours.  Never could get K-9 to take any interest in it, but I suspect your Kasterborous will find it fascinating.  It even has his namesake constellation engraved on it.”

“It’s perfect.  Thank you,” murmured Hal with a smile.  She tossed the ball in the air, listening to the almost musical tinkling sounds as it landed in her hand.  “He’ll love this!”

Twelve nodded in acknowledgement, and then pulled the lever down to begin the re-materialisation sequence. The TARDIS groaned, and landed with her usual thump.

“Last stop,” said Twelve, his face suddenly sombre.  This party was about to end, and once again he would be horribly, terribly alone.  


	55. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twelve bids adieu to Pete's World. How can he possibly say goodbye to Rose?

 

The soft thump of the TARDIS re-materialisation sequence reverberated throughout the console room, and it filled Twelve with dread.  He should be happy.  After all, there was a possibility now of a delightful new beginning, not another bitter ending.  Why, then, was he not in the least bit thrilled?  He should be looking forward to the future… one far less bleak and lonely than he’d anticipated prior to landing serendipitously on Pete’s World.

Ah, who was he kidding?  He had to say goodbye to Rose.  Bidding any adieu to his precious one would never be anything but agony.  And although he could barely admit it even to himself, it broke his hearts that he would not be there to experience the joys of her pregnancy and the birth of her firstborn child.  In his mind, it was as much his as it was his meta-twin’s.  He pushed that thought to the far reaches of his mind, lest Hal pick up his illicit musings.

Wrapped up in his melancholy, he barely noticed that Jack and his meta-twin had opened the TARDIS doors and exited, leaving only Rose and Hal at the console.  

“There we go,” he said in a forcedly cheerful voice.  “Back five minutes from when we left.  Your Kaster will probably be a bit miffed that he didn’t get a nap in.”

“Will you be alright?” asked Rose gently.

“I’m always alright,” muttered Twelve without looking up, once again jabbing buttons and flipping switches in an attempt to divert attention away from him.

Rose narrowed her eyes at him.  “Yea, that’s Doctor-speak for not bein’ alright at all.  Not foolin’ _me_ , ya know.”

“You’ve always been able to read me, Rose,” said Twelve, a twitch of a smile playing the corner of his lip.  “I guess it doesn’t matter what face I have… or _he_ will have.”

“Will we see you again?” Rose asked.  “This isn’t a proper goodbye, is it?”

Pausing, Twelve stared at the display over the console, but it was obvious that he was paying the scrolling symbols no heed as he struggled with deciding what to say next.  With a sigh, he turned back to Rose with a schooled expression of pure stoicism.

“Who knows, Rose Tyler?” he said with a tap to his nose, something he had picked up from his fourth life.  “Who knows?  But it’s possible, especially if Her Highness here decides to travel with me.  I suppose you might like to see your dear sister-in-law once in a while.  I may not have this same daft old face, though.”

Rose gave him a blazingly bright smile that melted his hearts into twin puddles deep in his chest.  “I think it’s a very handsome face.  Try to keep it, ya?” she said boldly.  Hal chuckled as Twelve’s faced flushed a bright pink at the compliment.  

“Don’t let your husband hear you say that,” Twelve choked out, unable to prevent an awkward smile from creeping onto his face.  Suddenly feeling like an adolescent schoolboy, he stared down at his boots.

“Too late,” came a voice from the doorway.  Leaning against the doorframe with arms tightly crossed, a sour look on his face, stood the Doctor.  He had assumed Rose had followed him out of the TARDIS.  The realisation that both his wife and his sister were in the TARDIS, alone with Twelve, sent him scampering back to the doorway.  Panicking at first, now he was furious.

“Jus’ sayin’ goodbye,” laughed Rose.  “I’ve got my custodian right here,” she said, pointing to Hal.

“Fat lot of good she was,” growled the Doctor, prompting Hal to defiantly roll her eyes at him.

“Well, guess we’d better go,” sighed Rose.  “We have a lot of work to do, an’ that lug over there is givin’ ya the evil eye thinkin’ ya might run off with me, or somethin’.”  Stepping closer, she held out her arms in an invitation to a hug.

Still intently examining his boots, the older Time Lord didn’t notice Rose’s gesture until Hal nudged him with a poke in the arm.

“Eh?” he said, shooting Hal a surprised look.  Following her finger as she gestured toward Rose, he gave Rose a double-take before flickering his eyes elsewhere.  Anywhere, really, as long as it wasn’t at Rose holding out her arms invitingly.  

He wasn’t sure he could do this.  A thousand scenarios ran though his head, and to be honest, he didn’t know what he would do if he hugged Rose Tyler.  Would he run off with her?  Run off without her again?  Grumble?  Laugh?  Cry?  He simply didn’t know for sure.  Whatever the circumstances, most of his choices were anything but good, and all were guaranteed to hurt.

“Uh, not really the hugging type,” he muttered somewhat unconvincingly, staring at the vents in the floor.  Glancing sideways at Rose, to his consternation, he could see the deep hurt in her whiskey-coloured eyes.  He froze, not quite sure what to do.  The presence of his younger twin standing in the doorway, head tilted back with nostrils flared, kept him in check when all he wanted to do was wrap their pink and yellow girl in his arms.  The pain on her face gutted him, but she was not his to touch as he pleased.

_Don’t be stupid,_ snapped Hal in a sharp telepathic voice.  _You swanned off before without properly saying goodbye to Rose, so don’t you dare hurt her once again.  What’s he gonna do, anyway?  You’ve already kissed her, so you may as well go in for the hug._

Twelve gave out a loud groan, covering his face with both hands in dismay.  Was there nothing Hal couldn’t pick from his brain?  He must have been as transparent as glass to the empath.

_How did you… when did you…?_

_There are no secrets between us,_ Hal advised him solemnly. _He is well aware of Rose’s feelings toward you, and Rose would never hide what she did from him.  Show him the respect that he deserves, and he will permit it for Rose’s sake._

Scrubbing at his forehead furiously, Twelve realised just how incredibly strong Rose’s bond was to his meta-twin, and to Hal.  He could scarcely fathom having such _intimacy_ with another.  As much as it frightened him to think of his soul being stripped bare of all his masks, of living with someone who had knowledge of truths he could hardly stand to look at himself, he also craved such a relationship.  Despite his best efforts, the slightest twinge of envy pricked at his core unbidden.

With a deep sigh, Twelve made one final scrub across his lean features and turned toward his twin.

“Permission to give Rose a farewell hug?” he asked simply.

Giving the older Time Lord a tight nod in answer, the Doctor crossed his arms impatiently and remained leaning against the door frame.

Turning back to Rose, Twelve opened his arms wide with an expectant look.  A broad smile spread across her face as she flew into his arms, grasping his waist tightly and burrowing her cheek into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Rose.  I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” whispered Twelve into her ear.  

Unable to help himself, he took in a deep breath through his nose, gathering up the unique scent that was Rose Tyler; committing it to memory for those long days ahead.  He could detect the waft of pheromones given off by the growing foetus nestled inside her.  He buried his face into Rose’s neck as a plethora of emotions washed through him.  Biologically incompatible, he could never have given her _that._   But now his DNA, passed down through his meta-twin, was fused with hers.  He had thought he was giving Rose a gift in the meta-crisis, but Rose had turned the tables on him.  She had gifted him with a future generation; one that was inextricably tied to them both.  He could certainly live with that.

“’S ok,” she said in a whisper, nodding.  “I understand.  Thanks for considering his feelings, too.  He doesn’t dislike ya, he’s jus’ scared.”  

Rose pulled back and gave Twelve another brave smile.  “You’ll know when we’re back, yea?”

“Possibly,” nodded Twelve.  “Depends on _when_ you show up, I suppose.  There’s no telling what time zone you’ll end up in when you cross.  Same goes for me, as well.  I could end up anywhere.  You’ll need to ensure you don’t become part of any events until you’re certain of when and where you are, and then backtrack quickly to your final destination.”

Rose bit her lip.  “Could’ja meet us there, if… if you know we’re there?  You could meet the baby…”

Twelve glanced away, his face falling a bit as he measured his words.

“I can’t promise you that, Rose.  There may be all sorts of reasons why I shouldn’t be there.  If I can, I will.  But you must promise me that you’ll avoid any of my prior selves at all cost.  There is too much at stake; too many ways that everything could be undone if you cross paths.”

“I understand,” said Rose.  She straightened up and took a step back.  “Farewell, Doctor.  Until we meet again.”  She put on another brave face and nodded to him.

“ _Auf Wiedersehen_ , Rose Tyler,” said Twelve quietly, unable to keep a slight quaver from creeping into his husky voice.  “Be brave and be brilliant, as you are always.”

Giving him a tongue-tipped smile that almost shattered the older Time Lord, Rose backed away and sprinted down the walkway past her husband.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped themselves around Twelve’s slender waist, startling him partially out of his misery.

“Stop, stop!” he yelped, slapping at Hal’s hands and trying to twist out of her reach.  “I’m serious about the hugging thing.  It’s really unnecessary… and annoying!”

Chuckling, Hal released the older man with a slap to the back.  She leaned forward as he turned to face her.  “How did Clara put it?” she asked sotto voce.  “I don’t think you get a vote?”

Hal froze when Twelve flinched, a sorrowful expression crossing his angular features.  

_Sorry, so sorry_ , Hal said telepathically, giving him a contrite look.  _Me and my big mouth.  I should have known it was too soon._

Nodding at her apology, Twelve gave her a faded smile.

_Make it up to me when you get to the other side_ , he answered.  

“Farewell, Hal,” he said aloud.   “Keep that lot safe and make sure the TARDIS is ready for flight.  You all will face many challenges before we meet again, and I can’t think of anyone I trust more to protect my family.  And that includes you, my sister.”

Blushing and blinking away the moisture forming in her eyes, Hal gave the Time Lord a formal bow.  "Be seeing you, Doctor,” she said before pivoting on her heels to join Rose outside.

Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers, Twelve walked slowly up the walkway towards the Doctor, who seemed slightly more relaxed now that the women were no longer aboard the TARDIS.

“I know how unlikely it sounds, but I truly admire how protective you are of Rose and Hal,” said Twelve.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” the younger man asked in a challenging tone.

“Of course.  Of course, you would be,” acknowledged Twelve.  “You have every reason not to trust me.”

“Not every reason,” said the Doctor, glancing around the TARDIS as if he’d never seen her before.  He felt a stab of shame as he remembered what Twelve had done only a few minutes earlier.  The older Time Lord didn’t really deserve his overt suspicion and thinly-veiled hostility, but it seemed to be his nature when it came to Rose, specifically.

“I truly am grateful for what you’ve done for all of us, Doctor,” he continued.  “We have a chance at protecting this universe and doing something good, and I don’t think we could have achieved much without your help.  You didn’t have to give me regeneration energy, you know.  You have a fully functional TARDIS.  You could have snatched Rose and Hal and left me here to rot.”

“Ha!  I don’t think either of those ladies would have thought much of me, had I done that,” chuckled Twelve.  “I suspect Hal would have regenerated me until she grew tired of it, much as she repeatedly dispatched Jack Harkness.”

“What??  She actually told you that?” snorted the Doctor.  “She’s not said a word to me… well, why would she?  She knows I’d not be too happy with her.  I wondered why Jack was acting weird around her.”

“Ah, so there _are_ secrets in the family,” grinned Twelve.  “Good to know.  For a minute there, I thought having her around would be like living in a nudist colony.”

“Oh, well, don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched,” said the Doctor with a rueful laugh.  “She is far more adept at mining than she is at sharing.  She probably knows which pair of underpants you’re wearing today.”

Twelve grimaced.  “Work with her on that nasty habit of rifling through minds, eh?  There are times when it’s warranted, but her mind is too powerful to leave her to her own devices.”

“Working on it,” nodded the younger Doctor.  “But I have a little request of you, if you don’t mind.”

“If it is within my power, I will do it,” said Twelve.

Pacing and rubbing at his neck, the younger man hesitated.

“If something was to happen to me…  Would you take Rose and my child back to Prime with you?  Would you take care of them?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask,” said Twelve with a sober glance.  “Of course I would.  But I don’t think you need to worry about that.  The universe is never so kind to me.”

“Thank you,” said the Doctor, swallowing thickly.  “You’re a good man,” he added, cheeks flushing with shame and making his freckles fade out.

“Nonsense,” smiled Twelve.  “Took me awhile to finally realise it, but I’m just an idiot in a big blue box.  Unfortunately for you, it runs strongly in the family.”

“Good luck… my big brother,” said the meta-twin, holding out his hand to Twelve.

Twelve gave the Doctor a quizzical look.  “What?  You don’t want a hug?”

“I thought you didn’t like hugs,” said the Doctor.

“I don’t, but you definitely _are_ the hugging type.”

Staring perplexed at the older Time Lord, the Doctor opened his arms and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Ready?” asked Twelve with a maniacal grin.

“I dunno…”

“Oh, shut up,” grumbled the Time Lord, not unkindly.  He stepped forward and awkwardly embraced his younger brother.  “Farewell, Doctor of Pete’s World,” he said before stepping back.

“Until we meet again, Doctor of Prime.  Try not to get trapped for billions of years this time, eh?”

Twelve gave the Doctor a two-fingered salute as he stepped out of the TARDIS doorway.  He joined the others in front of the tent, watching as Twelve slowly closed the door with a saddened look on his pale face.  Within seconds, the groan of the TARDIS filled the air as it dematerialised before their eyes.

Inside the TARDIS, floating in the Vortex, Twelve leaned over the console as his oldest friend sang him a simple Gallifreyan lullaby.  He smiled wanly, recognising the song as one from his childhood.  His horribly lonely childhood, filled with fear and shame.  The song was never sung for him, but he was soothed by it even as it was sung to one of the other boys.  His TARDIS always knew what he wanted, what he needed, where he needed to be.

“Thank you for taking me there,” he murmured to her.  “I was needed there.  It was surprising, joyful and painful, all at once, but now I have more purpose than I had before.  I have a proper family now, isn’t that brilliant?”

He set the controls for the long journey back home across the hellish Void, then pulled the big lever down to set them into motion.  Brightening, the Time Rotor cast an orange-red light across his face as he looked up to the rotating panels above him.

Alone again.  But not for long, he hoped.

 


	56. Digging in the Dirt

 

“Do ya think he’ll be alright?  He shouldn’t be travelin’ alone,” said Rose, as the last echoes of the TARDIS were carried away on the wind.  She tugged at a wisp of hair blown into her eyes.  Noting the worry lines around her forehead, the Doctor reached over to hug her shoulders.

“Of course he’ll be alright,” he tried to reassure her.  “He’s like… well… _ancient_ even by my standards!  Blimey, he told me he was over four and a half _billion_ years-old.  Wouldn’t surprise me if he jumps ahead five years as soon as he gets back.”

Hal gave him a snort of derision.  “I don’t think the time in the confession dial counted, really.  He copied himself repeatedly, but each copy started back from the beginning.  Each cycle from beginning to death was only a repeat of the same events, so essentially he was in a time loop.  He didn’t live one contiguous time span of 4.5 billion years.”

“Sorta like that movie, ‘Groundhog Day,’ right?” said Rose, trying to grasp the concept of living billions of years in an unending loop of several days.

“Yes, very similar,” nodded Hal.  “He’s closer to a little over two thousand years-old, not counting the time in the confession dial. He only remembered the previous lives of his copies the last day and a half before he copied himself again.  It was still hell.  Can’t imagine anyone being that stubborn.”

“I can,” muttered the Doctor through his clenched teeth.  “If that was the only way I could save Rose’s life, I would do it.”

“I dunno…,” said Hal in a sing-song voice.  “You have no idea what he went through.  He was chased the entire way and mortally injured repeatedly by a creature from your childhood nightmares.  Remember the old lady who died, was wrapped in shrouds, and who started to decay?”

_“Seriously?”_ squeaked the Doctor, shuddering.  “That… that woman, and the flies.  Uh, the flies!!  Gave me nightmares for years after that.”

“Right.  Imagine being chased by her and the flies through a castle, running to the opposite end, and only having a maximum of eighty-two minutes before she found you again.  You have to eat, sleep and find a way out before she catches up with you again.  He’s not quite sure how many days he ran before being cornered at the Azbantium wall.”

“Azbantium?” asked Rose, frowning.

“It’s a mineral substance four hundred times harder than diamond, Rose,” said her husband, a grim set to his mouth.  

“He had to chip through it with his fist.  It took him billions of years to do it, and over millions of copies of himself,” Hal continued.  “He saw piles of skulls at the base of the castle, all from his past copies.  He thought they were from the previous detainees, but they were his.”

Rose gave a loud gasp of horror, clapping her hands over her mouth as tears welled.

“Who did that to him?” she whispered in a shocked, quivering voice.  “Why would anyone do that to him?”

“Rassilon wanted to know who the hybrid of the Matrix prophesies was,” answered Hal.  “The Time Lords thought the Doctor knew, so they trapped him in his own confession dial to extract the information from him.”

“Why wouldn’t he jus’ tell them what he thought he knew?” Rose asked, eyes wide with heartbreak for the older Time Lord.

“He had a special companion named Clara, one who was very close to him,” sighed Hal.  “When the Time Lords trapped him, something went very wrong and she was killed.  His only hope of getting her back was to go to Gallifrey and use an extraction chamber to extract her from her timeline at the moment of death, because otherwise he would be seriously crossing his own timeline with the TARDIS.  

“At that point, he wasn’t really sure where Gallifrey was, but it was hiding out in a pocket at the end of the universe.  He knew that if he confessed the identity of the hybrid, he would be released and might never discover Gallifrey’s location.  It was a gamble, but when he broke though the wall he found himself in the dry lands on Gallifrey.”

“So, this Clara.  Who was she?” asked Rose tenuously.  “Was she like his… girlfriend, or somethin’?”

“Ah,” said Hal, crossing her arms.  “It’s… sort of complicated.  I couldn’t get a good sense of who she was, because it’s almost as if she had multiple personalities… or lives.  She, uhm, threw herself into his timeline at Trenzalore to try to save him.”

_“Noooo!!”_ groaned the Doctor in a deep voice.  “No, that’s impossible!”

“Well, he did call her ‘the Impossible Girl’, so perhaps she was.”

“She’d have been torn to pieces and scattered across his timeline!  And why would he have ever been on Trenzalore?  It’s the one place we should never, ever go,” shouted the Doctor, pulling at his chestnut locks while pacing.

“Why do I know that name, Trenzalore?” asked Rose, her eyes narrowed as she searched her memory.  The sound of it filled her with an unnamed terror.

“You shouldn’t,” growled her husband.  “You probably picked it up through the bond.  That he would go there is just insane.  It’s… it’s… it’s _worse_ than insane!”

“What’s at Trenzalore that’s so dangerous?” asked Rose, a little alarmed at her husband’s reaction.

“The most dangerous place in all the universe, Rose,” he said through gritted teeth.  “It’s the final burial place of his timeline.  A gaping wound in Time and Space from all of the time travel he’s done.  It’s no longer my timeline, but it’s still the absolute worst place he could ever find himself.”

“Don’t think he had much of a choice,” interjected Hal.  “I think it was another one of those cockamamie prophesies.  You Time Lords seem quite fond of them.”

“Ten million years of Time Lord evolution, Hal.  It’s engrained in us.”

“Might I suggest that you dispense with the idea of a Matrix, should you rebuild Gallifrey in this universe?” said Hal, cocking at eyebrow at him.  “Sounds to me like it and its prophesies were a gigantic pain in the arse.”

“Well, we did sort of refer to it as Time Lord Hell, so perhaps you have a point.”

“Can we get back to this Clara?” asked Rose impatiently.  “I wanna know why he’d bust through a harder than diamond wall with his fist, for billions of years, if she wasn’t his girlfriend or somethin’.”

“I think I understand,” said Jack, who was sitting on the ground stroking Kaster.  He had been quietly listening to the conversation since the Time Lord left, pondering a new life in Pete’s World.  Having chosen not to say his goodbyes to the older Doctor, a morose feeling of regret was seeping into his bones.  As much as he objectively understood that the disaster of the 456 was not the Doctor’s fault, in the deep recesses of his heart he was still not quite ready to offer forgiveness.

“She sacrificed herself to save him,” said Jack.  “She was splintered all along his timeline, so she was essentially an integral part of him.  He owed her too much to just let her go to a senseless death.”

“His feelings about her were mixed, Rose,” said Hal.  “I think she was a bit of a mystery to him, and you know he can never resist a mystery.  But I don’t think they had a romantic relationship.  He cared for her very deeply, but I’m sure it never progressed to that.  I believe they were a tad closer in his previous life, but she didn’t react well to his regeneration.”

“Oi, that would have done it, for sure,” laughed the Doctor.  “Not accepting him because he wasn’t young and _pretty_ anymore would have been a swift kick to the old ego.”

“Shallow, is what that is,” groused Rose, suddenly incensed at the idea that this Clara had rejected the Doctor simply because he appeared older.  He was thousands of years-old, regardless of how young he might look.

“Now, now,” admonished Hal.  “You’ve got to admit that he’s kinda grumpy this turn.”

“No more grumpy than this one when we first met,” countered Rose, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the Doctor.  “An’ a lot less rude!”

“Oi…,” protested the Doctor weakly, giving her a melodramatic hurt look.

“She’s got a point, Doc,” smiled Jack.  

“Yea, but what is it with the friskiness?” asked Hal, forehead wrinkling in disgust.  “Have you always chatted up reptilian females you’ve not properly met?”

“I’ve noooo idea where that came from,” protested the Doctor.  He threw his hands up.  “No clue what got into him.  Wouldn’t have been my first move, I swear!  Always been a complete gentleman with the Silurian ladies.  Just ask.”

“Must be a newly acquired taste,” said Jack.  “Or maybe it’s just with Hal,” he added without a smile.

“What?!?” demanded Hal, a dangerous sharpness in her voice.  She fixed Jack with a challenging glower that forced him to glance away.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious he has the hots for you,” muttered Jack bitterly.  “He’s trying to get you to travel with him, he gives you his precious sonic screwdriver, and I could tell you two were chatting it up telepathically when you thought no one was paying attention.”

The Doctor’s hand streaked forward, grasping Hal’s clenched fist right before it ploughed into the ex-Time Agent’s face.  Giving her a stern look, he waited until she shifted her weight back onto her heels before releasing her.

“Are you certifiably mad, Jack?” he hissed.  “He thinks nothing of the sort.  That would be like… like…”  He sputtered to a halt at a loss for words, almost nauseous with revulsion.

“Like kissin’ his sister,” Rose finished.  “Jack, I can see how ya might’ve come to that conclusion, but it’s not what ya think.  It’s quite impossible, really.  I’m thinkin’ that’s taboo even in the 51st Century.”

“But he’s not bonded to her,” argued Jack.

“No, but she’s bonded to me, and I have a psychic link to him,” replied the Doctor.  “He can’t think of her as anything but a sibling.  A rather annoying little sister, but a family member, nonetheless.”

“Aww, thanks for that,” Hal grumbled tartly.

“Ok, my bad,” said Jack, finally backing down.  He tried to hide his relief, but a glance at Hal assured him that she wasn’t fooled.  Taking a deep breath, he berated himself for looking like an ass, and not for the first time wondering what had happened to the Jack of old.  Was this what they called ‘jealousy’?  Could Jack Harkness actually experience such an emotion, or could it be that the twelfth Doctor had triggered something dark and vindictive in his breast?  

Perhaps it was that.  Perhaps he just couldn’t accept the old Time Lord moving on, being happy about much of anything when Jack himself was mired in misery.  Or perhaps he had just lived too long and it was all of those things congealed into a cesspool of a life.

Biting his inner lip, Jack stood up and marched into the tent, determined to drown his wretchedness in a few cold beers.  Kaster followed close behind, dropping his huge head on Jack’s thigh when he sat down.

Gesturing to the women to follow him, the Doctor walked into a clearing just outside earshot of the tent.

“ _Blimey._ What got into him?” asked the Doctor quietly.

“He has issues,” Hal answered cryptically.

“That much I figured,” said the Doctor testily.  “But why did he have a problem with you and the Doctor?  If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess he was having a possessive hissy fit over you.  Is there something going on between you two that I don’t know about?”

“There is nothing going on between us,” Hal insisted.  “Nothing on my end, anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” replied Hal with an exasperated sigh.

“So, how many times did you kill him?” he asked bluntly.

Hal’s head snapped up at the _non sequitur_ , a look of panic on her face as she paled slightly.  She couldn’t miss the combined look of triumph and disappointment on her brother’s face.  Opening her mouth several times to speak, she found herself unable to think of anything to say in her defence.

“How many times, Hal?” continued the Doctor, insistent on a response from the petite shapeshifter.  “You may as well tell me.  The other Doctor mentioned it in passing.  Interesting that he knew, but I didn’t.”

Hal cleared her throat.  “Uhm, eleven,” she said with downcast eyes.  “And I never told him.  He managed to get into my head when I scanned his mind.”

“Oh my God,” exclaimed Rose.  “You killed Jack eleven time?!?  _Why??”_

“Revenge,” growled the Doctor.  “After I told you not to do it, you went ahead and did it anyway, Hal.”

“I was intent on doing it thirteen times, but I couldn’t,” said Hal dismally.  “Thirteen times, one for each child he gave to the 456.  After eleven, I just couldn’t do it anymore.  I realise now that it was wrong.”  

“When did you do that, Hal?” asked the Doctor, brown eyes filled with disillusionment.  He didn’t appear to be so much angry as very, very discouraged over Hal’s behaviour.

“On your wedding night,” said Hal in a quiet voice.

The Doctor spun around on his heels, teeth tightly clenched together in a grimace.  Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he walked swiftly and wordlessly away towards the tent.

Hal’s face crumbled, crushed to the core by the blast of emotions from the Time Lord.  Expecting him to dampen their sibling bond out of spite, she was not prepared for the tsunami of feelings that washed over her.  Anger, shame, consternation, but none so strong as the devastating betrayal he felt towards her.  Staggering under the weight of them, she felt an arm encircle her own.

“I can’t condone what’ya did, Hal,” said Rose gently, “but I think I understand why ya did it.”  Grasping Hal’s hand and placing it tenderly over her abdomen, Rose gave her an encouraging smile.

“I’d protect your baby with my life, to the bitter end,” whispered Hal, blinking away the tears gathered on her eyelashes.  “I would never have allowed the 456 to have any child, but especially not one from my own family.”

“I know that.  An’ so would Jack now,” nodded Rose.  “He learned somethin’ from that, I’m sure.  I’ve known him for so long now, an’ I can see it in his eyes.  He’s dyin’ inside.  Your killin’ him won’t bring those kids back, an’ I don’t think it did much good for you, either.  Did ya learn anything from it?”

“Oh, Rose… I learned more about myself than I wanted to,” said Hal miserably.  “I’m a monster.”

“You are so not a monster, Hal,” smiled Rose.  “But you’re broken, jus’ like Jack.  Jus’ like the Doctor an’ me were before we bonded.  Ya saw us through that, an’ ya helped us to get through all the baggage.  We’re here to do the same for you an’ Jack, since ya decided to stay with us.”

“He’s pretty upset with me right now,” Hal said glumly, gesturing toward the tent. 

“Oh, don’ worry about him,” reassured Rose.  “You know how he is.  In five minutes he won’t remember bein’ cross with ya.  He can never stay angry with ya, Hal.  Besides, he’s probably a bit proud of ya that ya didn’t make it thirteen.”

Hal nodded, remembering how mercurial the Time Lord could be; blustering and intimidating one second, jovial and irreverent the next.  She hoped he would forgive her that one little moment of insanity.

“Don’t forget, he’s done far worse,” said Rose.  “He won’t hold it against ya, if ya promise not to do anythin’ like that again.  Besides, he’s already simmerin’ down.  Can feel it through the bond.”

“It may be awhile before he trusts me again,” sighed Hal.

“Keep your bond with him open, so he sees ya have nothing to hide.”

Hal blinked.  “But…, uhm….”

“Don’t worry,” Rose laughed.  “We’ll let ya know if we need privacy.  Right now, he’s gonna be too excited about diggin’ up TARDIS parts for it to be a problem.  Which reminds me… I need to call Dad to let him know we need some heavy equipment shipped here.”

Reaching into her hip pocket, Rose retrieved her mobile to call Pete.  Turning towards the tent, Hal reluctantly strolled to within the last six feet before veering off to the right.  She wasn’t quite ready to face her brother, and even with a dampened sibling bond, she could tell he was still in a bit of a mood.  When the Knob came into view, she slid the new sonic screwdriver from her pocket.  

With a smile, she caressed the beautiful blue planes of the device, not unlike those of a jewel.  Closing her eyes, she searched the settings placed in her mind by the older Doctor.  Finding one for alien tech after a diligent search, she opened her eyes and turned the sonic in her hand to examine the buttons and switches.  There weren’t quite as many as she imagined there should be for an extremely complex machine as this, but she also remembered that it operated partially by brainwave activity.  She need only apply the right settings, and then think.

“Setting number 666,” she said after moving a few switches.  “How apropos.  Well, here goes.”

Pressing a central button on the device, she waved it toward the Knob, grinning at the high-pitched sound that it made.  After about five seconds, it made a series of chirping noises to indicate it was done with the scan.  She turned it on its side to read the results.  In tiny script, she could see circles, lines, crescents and the like scrolling across the backlit screen.

“Crap!  He left it set to Gallifreyan,” she growled.  “Now I’ve gotta look for another setting.”

“You were expecting an American English setting for the read-out?” came a voice a few feet behind her.  She twisted to view her brother coming up behind her.  Reaching out tentatively along the bond, she was met with a soft telepathic touch of reconciliation and remorse.  She reached back, wordlessly asking for forgiveness.  Along with a quirky smile on his face, she received it.

“So, you’re saying that it doesn’t have an English setting?  Or Russian?  Or any other Terran languages I know?”

“Nope,” he replied, popping his ‘p’ with a big grin.

“That’s rubbish,” Hal groaned.  

“Well, it’s not like he ever expected anyone to use it but himself,” the Doctor explained.  “And he no doubt expected you to know Gallifreyan.”

“Me?  Know Gallifreyan?”

“You’ve picked just about everything else out of my brain,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at her.  “Why not Gallifreyan?  Look at it again, and let your brain translate it for you.”

Hal stared at the script again, squinting hard.

“Nope, not getting anything,” she said a few minutes later, defeated.

Reaching up to place two fingers at her temple, the Doctor gave her an encouraging smile.  “Try again,” he urged her.

She blinked, and suddenly the gorgeous and ancient writing began to resolve into something she could understand.  It still looked like a mixture of Egyptian hieroglyphics and cuneiform, but at least she could decipher it.

“Ooh, that’s cool,” Hal laughed.  “So I’ve had that archived in my head for a while.”

“Yeaaaa, just gave it a bit of a nudge.”

“So, according to this, the Time Rotor is exactly at the bottom and centre of the Knob,” said Hal, consulting the sonic.  “That’s just brilliant.  It would take us weeks to dig it out, considering the amount of rock scattered through it.  Good thing Rose is calling Pete for heavy equipment.”

“I suppose we could have asked the other Doctor to tractor it out for us with the TARDIS.”

“Already asked,” said Hal.  “He said it’s a TARDIS, not a tow truck.”

The Doctor gave out a loud guffaw.  “ _Of course_ he did!  What a grouchy old git he is.  You really think you want to travel with him?”

Hal shrugged noncommittally, putting the sonic away into her pocket.  She could see the glint of envy in her brother’s big brown eyes and wasn’t about to take any chances.

“I dunno,” she replied.  “I think I could take him down a peg or two.”

“Oh, right.  The scariest man in the universe, travelin’ with the scariest woman in the universe?  I’m not sure Prime would survive that!”

“Who’s the scariest woman in the universe?” asked Rose as she joined them.

“Hal, here,” he answered, pointing at his sister.

“Scarier than Bad Wolf?” she queried him with a tongue-tipped grin.

“Aww, no,” he said, waving his hands.  “You’re _definitely_ the scariest woman in _this_ universe!  No question.”

Rose gave him a playful punch in the ribs, laughing.  “An’ don’t ya forget it.”

“Did you talk to Pete about the equipment?” ask Hal.

“Yea, should be here tomorrow, contracted from a local construction company.  He wasn’t too happy about it.”

“The cost?” ventured the Doctor.

“Well, more like I woke ‘im up at 3 am in the mornin’,” chuckled Rose.  “I forgot about the time difference.  An’ he wondered why the other Doctor didn’t use the TARDIS to move the parts to our basement.”

“’Cause he’s a crusty old tosser and wouldn’t do it?” pouted the Doctor.

“Yea, well, Pete sort of insinuated that his parents were never married,” said Rose, then burst into a fit of giggling.

“ _Oi…_   They were my parents, too, ya know!”

“Well, join the club,” chuckled Hal.  “Neither were mine.  Fancy that!”

“My parents were, too, married,” grumbled the Doctor, throwing Rose into another squealing fit of laughter.

“Alright, alright.  Enough,” said Rose more seriously.  “Let’s see if we can find that other Eye of thingey.”

“Eye of Harmony,” corrected the Doctor.  “Big artificially-created black hole.  We can’t miss it.”

“Go on, then,” needled Hal.  “Whip out your old sonic and have a go.”

“Oh, rub it in, will ya?  Mine doesn’t detect the level of Zed neutrinos like… like….”

“What? Like this one?” asked Hal innocently, extracting the new sonic screwdriver from her back pocket.   “And now that I know exactly what I need to look for….”

“ _Oi._ He gave you that just to annoy me,” growled the Doctor.  “And when you find it, you can just start digging it out with a trowel.”

“Ooooh… a sonic trowel,” breathed Hal.  “Now there’s a possibility.”

“Sonic _trowel?_   Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” scoffed the Doctor.

“Yeaaa,” drawled Hal.  “About as ridiculous as a sonic screwdriver that doesn’t do wood.”

“I give up,” moaned Rose.

 


End file.
